


Silent Youth

by motteme



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P., Fashion Designer Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, push and pull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-09-08 02:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motteme/pseuds/motteme
Summary: Jiyong and Seunghyun had been friends since they were born and eventually fell in love and dated for five years, but their circumstances were anything but desirable and when Seunghyun's father found out about them and started to threaten Jiyong and his family they had to move from Seoul to NYC. Seunghyun is being left behind and has to obey his father's rules.Something Jiyong didn't expect was to see Seunghyun ever again.Something he absolutely didn't expect was to see Seunghyun again after fifteen years and finding out that he now passionately hates gay people, much like his own father.What happens next?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to made footnotes and adding pictures in the notes, but failed.  
If someone knows how I can add pictures in the notes or smth pls tell me so I can add them here, too TT!
> 
> If you want to read the mentioned tweets in this chapter go visit my twt profile:  
https://twitter.com/mottemotteme/status/1160214512164884481

“Do you think we will get in trouble for doing this?“

Jiyong looked up to his best friend since birth, eyebrows knitting in confusion — what was he talking about? What could they possibly get in trouble for?

But then Seunghyun looked down between them and Jiyong followed his gaze; they were sitting curled up under blankets behind Seunghyun‘s house, holding hands near the Han River. The weather was already getting colder again even though it was only the start of September. 

He looked up again. “Why would we get in trouble for holding hands?“ 

This was alien to him — why would this be a problem? Public display of affection wasn’t a huge thing in their home country, he knew that, but holding hands wasn’t something that frowned upon — he had seen his older sister Dami hold hands with the boy she liked so why should Jiyong not be able to do the same? He really liked Seunghyun, they were best friends after all and Seunghyun gave the best hugs and was his _best_ friend anyways so why should it be something bad? 

“It‘s just that — the other day; my father was talking to my mother,“ his voice was small and hushed and he looked incredibly sad “and he talked about how some older boys in our town that were caught holding hands and kissing and that it was bad and he said some really terrible things about them. That they were abominations of god and deserved to die. Apparently one of the boys even hanged himself and he said that it was the only way to deal with something like that properly and that it was the only thing he deserved.“

Jiyong sensed how his hand suddenly got sticky and sweaty in Seunghyun‘s — his heart was beating faster and he slowly started to feel sick; was what they did really that bad? Was it really something that should get punished by death? He had never really heard of anything like that; then again he also had never really heard about two boys doing these kinds of things so maybe there was something bad about all of this? — He frowned; his mother sure would have told him if he did something bad, she would never let him do something that would be justified to be punished by death. His thoughts were racing and the sickness in his stomach twisted into a sharp pain. Was it really bad?

No; this couldn't be it — besides, his mother had told him that love was never a bad thing and that he should never feel bad about loving someone; just that he should be careful about it no matter who he fell for, because love could hurt and she didn’t want to see him hurt. She had also told him that Seunghyun's father often had weird opinions about certain topics and that he shouldn’t pay too much mind to what he was telling him, that he should just be polite, nod and ignore his words and not take them personally — maybe he should tell Seunghyun the same?

He tightened the grip he had on Seunghyun‘s hand with his own and smiled up at him. “We are not doing something bad, Hyung. It doesn’t feel bad, does it?“ Seunghyun shook his head. “Exactly — so why should it be bad? Besides, I think you shouldn’t pay too much mind to what your father is saying. Don’t disagree with him, but like, don't take these things personally. My mom told me that love can never be something bad no matter who it is directed at and she is right I think.“

Seunghyun finally looked at him with big, unsure eyes. “Does this — mean that you love me?“

Jiyong tilted his head, thinking about the question and about what love actually meant in general, but especially to him. His sister had told him that love was the feeling of seeing your favorite person, the happiness you felt in your stomach and the longing you felt when you wanted to see them; love was so much more than just that, too — it was small gestures as well, caring for someone, laughing with them about jokes and spending time with them. Those were all things he did with Seunghyun. His sister had also told him that when you love someone they are the first and last person you think about and that was the case with Seunghyun — Jiyong would always think about the things they had done that day; how they had spent time at school, walked back home together, ate ice cream and played with Charlie and when he woke up he‘d already be filled with joy at the thought of spending time with Seunghyun that day. 

“Yes it does.“

Seunghyun‘s lips parted for a moment and his eyes widened, almost as if he hadn’t expected a honest answer like that and then his cheeks turned red. “I think, I think that I love you, too.“ — he gently squeezed Jiyong‘s smaller hand in his and Jiyong felt the butterflies go crazy in his stomach and then Seunghyun's face was suddenly very close to his own. 

“Can I kiss you?“

Jiyong nodded, not knowing what else to say — his voice was too weak right now anyways and then Seunghyun was so close and his lips were warm and soft and nice on his own and Jiyong closed his eyes and returned the chaste kiss. It didn’t last very long, but it was enough to make his head spin and his cheeks red and he couldn’t stop grinning. He just had his first kiss with Seunghyun, the sweetest and kindest boy he had ever known.

“Does that mean you are my boyfriend now?“

He tilted his head to the side again — Seunghyun was so cute. “Yes, my secret boyfriend.“

The older boy grinned down at him — extending his pinky finger. “Pinky promise that you will stay with me through thick and thin?“

“Pinky promise.“ 

* * *

Only that going through thick and thin turned out to be more complicated than both of them could have ever anticipated — when they kissed for the first time they were only ten years old; they didn’t know much about this world, nor about how cruel it could get for people like them. People who weren’t _normal_, people that could love someone of the same gender as well (or exclusively) — and the older they got the more they saw of the negativity around them. 

They were always careful tho.

Jiyong was fourteen now and Seunghyun fifteen. 

They had spent the last few years together; stealing small kisses from each other in the dark, holding hands underneath the comforter — things like that. But it was hard, especially for Jiyong. His mother knew about them (his father, too) and she supported them, even helped them hide and often talked to Seunghyun whenever his father had dropped some really nasty comments about homosexuals and about it being a sin and that they will all end up in hell anyways. — and it hurt so much to see that. Jiyong knew that Seunghyun was hurting, but there wasn’t much he could do — he still tried to cheer him up, telling him about this big plan he had; when they would be older they would simply pack their things and run off to the US or maybe some other country together and settle down there. They would be able to hold hands and kiss in public without being afraid to be killed — he told him about how Seunghyun could take art classes and become a famous painter, while Jiyong studied fashion and became a worldwide known designer and together they would be this incredible couple that could tell everyone to fuck off.

Just that reality wasn’t that easy going. 

It was shortly before Seunghyun‘s 16th birthday — the weather was already cold enough for you to have to wear a thick coat when you went out and snow had been falling for the past few days. Jiyong still remembered how he sat at the window, staring outside at nothing in particular; he had been daydreaming about what he had planned for Seunghyun‘s birthday.

Jiyong wanted to make it special — they had been together since a little bit over five years by now and he wanted to share something special with his boyfriend; they had kissed before, made out to the point where they were both hot and horny — but they hadn’t gone all the way yet and Jiyong really wanted to go all the way. They had taken things incredibly slow, which was probably normal since when they first got together they had been nothing but kids; but he was getting older now and hormones were kicking in and whenever he saw Seunghyun smirk at him there was this feeling underneath his stomach, a tingling sensation that only got worse and worse whenever Seunghyun would kiss him or pin him down and he really, really wanted to explore this with him. 

It was hard to do research about gay sex — he had no idea how it could possibly work between two men so he had asked his mother; she had dropped her coffee mug, too shocked by the sudden question, and she hadn't been much of a help at first, but a week later she knocked at his door, sat him down and talked to him about what she had found out (he didn’t dare to ask her how she knew about these things, but he assumed she drove all the way to Seoul and went to one of these shops where you could buy adult _things, _because she had also given him a few Japanese magazines where they talked a little bit more _in depth _about these things — thankfully there had been pictures because his Japanese was anything but good). She had also been so kind (or whatever adjective you want to use in this scenario) to buy condoms and lube for him, because she had also read about the dangers of gay sex (or sex in general) and she wanted him and Seunghyun to be save. 

So that was all he could think about now; the awkward conversation with his mom had happened two weeks ago and he had _experimented _— he had found out about the joys of gay sex, how to prep himself and what his prostate was and where it was located and he really wanted to share this experience with Seunghyun. He was an hopeless romantic anyway and he wanted their first time to be perfect. (He had even planned to buy roses and candles and already picked a CD that would play in the background, because _these things were important_). 

He was still staring straight ahead, not focusing on anything special in the distance, just thinking about how he would propose the idea to his boyfriend — but then he suddenly saw a dark figure approaching his house. It was already getting dark and snow was falling, but Jiyong recognized him immediately anyways — it was Seunghyun and Jiyong‘s heart stopped beating for a moment or two. 

Without thinking twice he jumped up and ran outside the house towards his boyfriend, who had a wound on the side of his head and was bleeding; he immediately took his face in his hands, trying to wipe away some of the blood, but it was no use — there were more wounds on his face; Jiyong could see the blood trickling down Seunghyun‘s nose and the dark bruise forming on his cheek. 

“Hyung, what happened?“ — but deep down Jiyong already knew what happened. 

Seunghyun couldn't answer though; tears were falling and he crumbled as soon as Jiyong wrapped his arms around him and his shivering frame. There were voices behind them and then they got both wrapped into a thick blanket and ushered into the house by Jiyong‘s dad — the snow had started to fall even harder than before and they were both only wearing their t-shirts and jeans; Seunghyun was basically an icicle by now. His lips were trembling and he was shaking so bad from the cold. 

Jiyong heard the quiet gasp from his mother somewhere in the room, but his eyes remained glued to Seunghyun who was still not meeting his eyes and instead stared at his hands in his lap — the younger boy tried to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of his shirt, but new tears came as soon as he wiped the old ones away. His mother came sitting down next to them with her little emergency kit and started to clean the wounds as good as possible, while Jiyong‘s dad had made two hot water bags and got them under the blankets, trying to warm Seunghyun up.

When Jiyong‘s mom was finally done, she carefully brushed the bangs out of Seunghyun‘s face — there was a gentle look on her face and she sighed heavily before getting up and pulling Jiyong‘s dad into the kitchen. They would probably have one of their grown-up talks now, but Jiyong really didn’t want to think about what they would be talking about. He just needed Seunghyun to be okay. 

The older boy had finally stopped crying; his eyes were now swollen from crying so hard.

“What happened?“ — again, Jiyong already knew and he knew it was a stupid question, but he needed certainty and he wanted Seunghyun to know that he could talk to him about whatever happened and that he would be there for him no matter what. 

Seunghyun sighed heavily and intertwined their hands under the blanket like they always did — ever since they had been kids. 

“We had an argument; normally I am good at conceiving my opinions, but I just couldn't stay quiet today for some reason. He was more cruel and disgusting and he started to talk to my sister‘s son about how _faggots _were the root of all evil and I just snapped; I don’t want him to grow up with that mind-set so I stepped in and said to him that no, that‘s not true and then things happened so fast and the next thing I know is that I am screaming ‘_I am gay_‘ in my father‘s face and then my face got smashed into a wall. — I don‘t think he knows about you, or about us, but he now knows about me for sure and I fucked up big time. I‘m so sorry Jiyong, I just—“

Jiyong shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for; realistically this was bound to happen one day. We can‘t hide from our parents for our whole lives, can we? But no matter what happens, we can get through this okay?“ His mind was blank; how in the world should he cheer Seunghyun up in this situation? He continued to look at the older boy, his hands holding onto Seunghyun‘s, but the other one still looked as broken as he probably felt inside and it was killing Jiyong. 

So he did the only thing he could do; wipe away the tears that were falling from his boyfriend‘s face, sooth him with sweet words and hold him until he finally calmed down enough for them to retreat to Jiyong‘s room. Technically speaking it was a school day the next day, but neither of them really cared about that right now and Jiyong doubted that either of them would go to school the following day — Jiyong tried to ignore the annoying voice at the back of his head that told him that if Seunghyun‘s father didn’t know about them before he would know about them as soon as Jiyong was missing from school as well, but he didn’t give a damn anymore. So what if Seunghyun‘s shitty father knew about him — the damage was done already. 

Jiyong let them into his room and switched on the lamp on his nightstand — it offered enough light for them to see, but was not unpleasantly bright as they were about to curl up in bed. Before they could do that they had to get out of their wet clothes tho; Seunghyun was practically soaked and still way cooler than he should be. He quickly dug through his closet, fishing out the warmest hoodie and sweats he could find for Seunghyun and a matching set for himself — when he turned around Seunghyun was still standing there in the middle of the room, staring on the ground.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, you need to get out of the wet clothes — I don't want you to get sick. Why are you so shy? It‘s nothing I haven’t seen before.“ — Jiyong tried to lighten the mood a little bit, but as he saw how Seunghyun curled up into himself, his arms crossing guardingly in front of his chest, he knew that he had achieved the complete opposite and it felt like someone punched him in the gut. With careful steps he walked up to Seunghyun and when he first reached out to touch Seunghyun he flinched away. “Please — it‘s just me. I'm not gonna hurt you. I love you.“ 

It felt like an eternity until Seunghyun finally looked up at him and let his arms fall to his sides, offering his body for Jiyong to undress him — and that‘s what he did. He tried to be as careful as humanly possible when he grabbed the hem of the wet shirt his boyfriend was wearing and tossed it carelessly onto the ground. His eyes had remained glued to Seunghyun‘s but as soon as the shirt was gone he couldn't help but look down and what he saw made him sick. There was a huge bruise at Seunghyun‘s side — it was almost a dark shade of blue in the middle and at the outer corners the skin was an angry red. His heart was beating so fast but he tried to remain cool when he took a closer look. 

“He did this, didn’t he?“

Seunghyun could only nod, his face completely passive.

Jiyong needed a moment to collect himself — to many emotions were currently raging inside of him and each one tried to win the upper hand; he was fucking angry, pissed and just so enraged he wanted to throw something, break that stupid face of Seunghyun‘s father for doing this to him; but that wasn’t helpful right now. Seunghyun needed someone who could take his mind off things and who supported him — not someone who threw a lamp against a wall out of rage. That would probably only make Seunghyun flinch away from Jiyong even more anyways and that was the very least Jiyong wanted to achieve. 

He quickly reached for the new shirt he had dug out of his closet for Seunghyun to wear, but his boyfriend seemingly had other plans. Seunghyun was still more a ghost of himself than his true self, but some of the awareness had crept back into his eyes that hadn‘t been there before. He took Jiyong‘s hand and pulled them both towards his bed — motioning Jiyong to lose his shirt as well and he did. When they finally settled in under the warm covers they were only in their underwear; Seunghyun snuggled up close to Jiyong‘s chest — his ear pressed against his left side, listening intently to his beating heart while holding his hand to his own chest. 

His body was still tensed, but if cuddling almost naked under the covers helped him calm down then Jiyong would do it — not like it was much of a struggle to begin with; the two of them weren’t strangers of sleeping in underwear under the covers. It might have taken a while for them to reach that stage, but after years of being together like that Seunghyun had eventually been able to get rid off his hang-ups about his own body and Jiyong embraced that in every sense. 

He tightened his arms around his boyfriend, combing his fingers through his hair while humming a calming tune — he couldn’t remember the title but it was the song his mother had always sung to him whenever he felt bad and it seemed to work with Seunghyun as well. Jiyong could feel his body go lax after a while — he cuddled up closer to his chest, burying his nose and face against his chest while pushing his arms underneath Jiyong to pull him closer as well. 

He continued to hum the song and Seunghyun was finally completely relaxed. Jiyong even had to smile when he felt Seunghyun‘s warm lips on his throat, leaving kisses and sucking on his skin. His fingers continued to comb through his hair, pressing his head forward and signalling him to suck and kiss harder and Seunghyun seemed to understand — he pushed his body against Jiyong‘s, slipping between his legs as his hands started to caress his sides and chest and Jiyong couldn‘t hold back the breathy moan. No matter how often they did this — whenever Seunghyun touched him his skin was on fire and it was getting progressively harder to not ask for more every single time. He didn’t want to push Seunghyun into something he wasn’t ready for. 

— but then Seunghyun reached for his boxers, pulled them down his hips and over the swell of his ass and fling them to the other side of the room. Repeating the same action with his own underwear and now they were naked under the blankets, bodies pressed against one another tightly and Jiyong could feel his boyfriend‘s cock pressing against his own and all of a sudden he realized in what kind of situation they were in right now. They had slept in underwear under the blankets before — there had been handjobs and blowjobs before, yes, but that had always happened under the blankets and they had never been completely naked in front of each other — not like this at least. The times they had seen each other naked was when they were kids or whenever they had went to a public bath house or when they quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes in the morning; but this?

Jiyong forgot all about the things that had happened today and all he could think about was his boyfriend — his cute, gentle and sweet Seunghyun — towering above him completely naked with their hard dicks rubbing against one another. 

Shit — he felt the heat creep into his cheeks and the way his heart started to pound against his chest. “Seunghyun?“

His voice was weak, but sure — one look and his boyfriend knew what he was asking him. Do you want more? Do you want this as much as I do? Do you feel ready? Can we go all the way? — and so much more; Seunghyun was blushing madly as well, even the tips of his ears were red, but he nodded. — Yes, I do want this. 

A shuddering breath escaped his lips and he quickly wet them, nodding to himself once more before he pushed himself up from the bed and leaned over to the nightstand to take out the bottle of lube and the box of condoms. His fingers were shaking, but Seunghyun‘s warm hands on his thighs helped him relax; he massaged them, rubbing soothing circles into his skin while smiling warmly at him.

“Do you want to— or should I?“, he held up the lube bottle between them, unsure who should do the prepping, but Seunghyun helped him with the decision. He quickly took it from Jiyong, kissing him, before pushing him back into the mattress — the warm smile never leaving his lips. 

Jiyong spread his legs a bit, pushing his hips so Seunghyun had more room to move and after a few more awkward moments he felt one of his boyfriend‘s slicked up fingers at his entrance — he took one last calming breath and then Seunghyun was pushing the finger inside. He was careful — they had talked about this before; Jiyong had told him about the things his mother had told him and had shown him the magazines and everything and it had been awkward and there had been this weird tension between them, nervousness, but now Seunghyun seemed sure. — still nervous as fuck, but sure. 

The longer Seunghyun moved his fingers inside of him — pushing inside and pulling out, repeating the motion until Jiyong was relaxed enough for him to add another finger — the less weird it felt. At first it didn’t feel good at all, but the unpleasant pressure slowly started to ebb away and soon there were three fingers inside of him, stretching him carefully and moving around to see what angles were the best and Jiyong couldn‘t sit still anymore. He moved his hips, meeting Seunghyun‘s movements — his thighs were shaking and he could feel a thin sheen of sweat forming on his skin and he was breathing heavily and it didn’t help that Seunghyun was staring at him like he wanted to devour him. Jiyong buried his fingers in the comforter and closed his eyes — but he could still feel the intense gaze on his body and then there were warm lips licking and kissing down his chest and a moan slipped out of his mouth. 

Shit that felt good.

He quickly tried to muffle his sounds by biting down on his knuckles, but Seunghyun moved his hand away — kissing his wrist — and pushed inside again and this time he hit something inside of Jiyong that made him whine out loud and bow his back. His thighs were shaking even more now and Seunghyun didn‘t stop — he continued to rub against that one spot inside of him and the more he did it the more pleasure swept through his body and the harder it was to actually keep quiet. He could feel the precum leaking from his cock onto his stomach and the way his balls tightened whenever Seunghyun brushed with his fingers against his prostate. 

“Seunghyun, please I —“, his eyes were open now; staring up at his boyfriend with pleading eyes. He was panting and his muscles tensing up with every thrust. 

“You ready?“

He nodded feverishly. He wanted this, wanted Seunghyun, wanted to feel his weight press down on his body and wanted to feel what it was like to have him inside — the nervousness was gone and replaced with anticipation instead as he watched Seunghyun move back a little, drawing back his fingers and reaching for the pack of condoms instead.

Seunghyun ripped the small thing open with his fingers and tried to put it on as quickly as possible — but his fingers were shaking as well and an embarrassed laugh left his lips as he couldn‘t make it work the first time around and Jiyong had to smile too. 

He leaned up and kissed him deeply. “I love you.“

Seunghyun looked at him again and Jiyong practically felt some of the nervousness drain out of his body. “I love you, too.“ — he took Seunghyun‘s face in his hands, kissing him one last time before falling back onto the mattress and Seunghyun followed suit. He finally managed to put on the condom and lubed himself up, sliding in between Jiyong‘s spread legs — the tip of his cock nudging against his entrance.

“You sure you want this?“

“Yes, I want you.“

“Just making sure.“

Jiyong couldn't help but smile dumbly at that — he had really lucked out. Seunghyun was the absolute sweetest human being he had ever met and he looked so adorable with his chubby cheeks and cute cat like smile; he really didn’t understand how none of the girls in their school liked him; was it just because he was chubby? — but he wasn’t complaining at all. Seunghyun was his and his alone anyways. 

— and then he was pushing inside. The stretch was wider than when it just had been Seunghyun‘s fingers inside, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or painful. It felt good — really good and Jiyong was already so turned on when Seunghyun bottomed out that he had to tighten his legs around his boyfriend’s waist to stop him from moving for a moment or he‘d probably come immediately. 

“Am I hurting you?“

“No — just feels really good.“ Jiyong reached up, throwing his arms around Seunghyun’s neck and pulled him into a kiss; their bodies now pressed against one another and Jiyong made sure that his boyfriend could feel how incredibly hard and wet he was already. He held onto him even more, buried his face in the crook of his neck and then Seunghyun started to move, to roll his hips and Jiyong forgot how to breath for a moment. The way Seunghyun‘s body pressed down on his own was utterly delicious; he could feel the heat radiating off his body, could feel every little move, every twitch and every gasp. He could hear the heavy breaths Seunghyun was taking, the low, breathy moans that left his lips and Jiyong couldn’t get enough of it.

He reached down to Seunghyun‘s ass, squeezing his cheeks with his hands and pushed him forward. “Harder—“ his voice was raspy and breathy and he sucked on Seunghyun's neck again, “—faster, please.“ 

His boyfriend made a sound of approval and then started to snap his hips — rolling them faster and harder, just like Jiyong had asked him to and now Jiyong really couldn’t conceal the sounds he was making anymore. His moans grew louder with every thrust and more than once did he end up cursing; _shit that feels good, please — fuck, just like that_! — and if he read the jerky movements of his boyfriend right _he liked it_. Jiyong just couldn‘t hold still — he touched Seunghyun everywhere; squeezed his butt, ran his nails down his back, sucked on every millimeter of skin he could find and continued to gasp and moan dirty things to Seunghyun and with each moan and gasp Seunghyun‘s thrusts became faster and harder. 

The bed was moving with them, the springs in the mattress protesting — and Jiyong could hear the sounds _they _were making; the filthy sound of Seunghyun thrusting inside, their heavy breathing and the wet smack of skin against skin and Jiyong fucking loved that, too. 

He could feel himself getting close already — Seunghyun had only been inside of him for a few minutes tops and he needed to hold himself back from coming too soon, but then Seunghyun moved so deliciously against him and Jiyong shattered. All his muscles were drawn as tight as they could, his legs tightened around Seunghyun's waist and then he came in waves — pleasure running through his body, making him gasp out Seunghyun‘s name over and over again and Seunghyun followed suit; he thrusted a few more times, groaned out Jiyong‘s name and then collapsed next to him. 

His heart was racing and he couldn‘t move his legs properly; too weak to move at all and he was panting heavily — his whole body felt tired all of a sudden, but then a blissed out smile spread across his face as he rolled over and looked at his boyfriend who had a similar look on his own face. 

He couldn’t believe it. They really had just made love for the very first time and it had been incredible. Jiyong felt how Seunghyun pulled him closer — his nose was already brushing against his chest as his eyes fell close and he snuggled up against his boyfriend some more; the huge smile never leaving his lips, especially not when he felt Seunghyun leave small kisses against his forehead and whispered sweet nothings to him while he continued to carefully comb his hair. His insides felt like mush in the best way possible; he felt so much happiness in that moment that all he wanted to do was to stand on the highest building in their neighbourhood and scream from the rooftop how happy he was and that he and Seunghyun had made love for the very first time and that it had been amazing and that Seunghyun was so sweet and caring — his mind was still running wild as he finally fell asleep; his hands still clinging onto Seunghyun in his dreams. 

* * *

The next morning came and Jiyong woke up to Seunghyun snoring soundly next to him, nearly drooling on his pillow with his hair a complete mess — his boyfriend was just so majestic it was incredible. 

He rolled around, away from Seunghyun so he had enough space to fully stretch his tired and stiff limbs. As much as he loved falling asleep with Seunghyun holding him, his neck and back always ended up hurting thanks to the weird position he always managed to fall asleep in so a proper stretching it was. His lower back protested as he bowed his back and the bones in his shoulder and fingers popped when he moved them around a bit — it felt so good as he settled back into the pillows, though. No more tension in his shoulders and lower back and he could cuddle up with Seunghyun under the blankets again. 

But now that he was more awake than before a sudden wave of sadness hit him again; especially as he saw the state Seunghyun was in. The day before it had already been dark and he hadn't seen much in the dim light of his own room, but the sun was shining already and he saw the bruises more clearly in the daylight now. — and it made him feel sick in the stomach.

The big bruise on his side looked even worse now than it had before and there was another purple bruise on his left arm and on the inside of his wrist, too. 

Fuck. 

Tears formed in his eyes but he forced them away — he didn't want Seunghyun to see his tears; Seunghyun probably already felt bad enough he didn't want to add even more sadness or whatever to what Seunghyun was feeling right now. He took a few calming breaths and then settled back in next to his boyfriend, holding his hand under the blanket again. 

Jiyong was glad that Seunghyun was still asleep so he could try to logically think about all of this — his father was an influential man in the military, there was no way he'd ever change his view on sexuality, no way. So how could they possibly go on from there on? The worst case scenario would be that his father would do something terrible to Seunghyun, but Jiyong sincerely prayed that that would never happen — plus Seunghyun‘s mother was such a kind soul. Before anyone could ever harm her son she would step in line and protect him — even if it was her own husband; though a look at Seunghyun‘s injuries made Jiyong wonder. Why didn’t she help him? Was she at home when all of this happened? 

Then again Seunghyun‘s mom was short and next to his father she looked fragile so there was no way she could physically protect him — emotionally she was one of his biggest supports, but physically would be an issue and there was no one else that would protect Seunghyun from physicals assault — fuck.

What could be another scenario? — Maybe his father would ship him off to the military far, far away. To a base that was known to be tough and had an intense training — that sounded like something his father would do. Just ship him off to god knows where and beat the gay out of him, because he would certainly talk to one of his high rank officer friends in secret and tell him how Seunghyun has been misled and was in need of ‘adjustment‘. 

Jiyong‘s stomach twisted again. 

With both of them not being in school it was clear as daylight that Seunghyun was with him — now that didn’t necessarily indicate that there was more going on between them; they were best friends after all and Seunghyun‘s parents had always liked Jiyong — but Seunghyun‘s father was a smart man, too. Maybe he would see through them, remember all the small moments and gestures between them he had witnessed before and brushed off as _brotherly love_ — skinship was common in their country between friends anyways. But now that his father knew he would definitely see things in a different light now. 

— and what would that mean for him and his family? 

Obviously the situation was the absolute worst for Seunghyun, but Jiyong wasn’t blind to what could happen now to his family. In public‘s twisted logic Jiyong would have to abandon Seunghyun now if he knew about him being gay — because that was what you did if you encountered a person like that; you turned your back on them and prayed that they would find the right path again and force them to be with someone of the opposite gender. 

That’s how Korea worked. 

So what would that mean for them? — Jiyong already knew that they were screwed now, one way or another. If Seunghyun‘s father found out about them he would try his hardest to stop them from seeing each other and he could easily do that; furthermore he would sabotage so many people around them by spreading the news that Jiyong was gay and an abomination of god or some sort so his parents and sister would probably be the laugh of the town and get treated badly and —

Jiyong needed to swallow hard; all his fears were surfacing now and he didn’t know how to handle them. He knew his parents loved him no matter what; they had accepted him being into men as well a long time ago now and his sister had helped them understand better so there was no way they would kick him out. But what else would they do? — Shit, he didn’t know. Maybe running away would be the best solution to all of this? Just packing their shit and out of the country? He held onto Seunghyun a little bit tighter now; all of this was scaring the shit out of him. 

Why was the world so cruel to them? 

Why did people think so badly of them?

He just didn’t understand — he was raised religiously; and all he had ever heard was that you should love each other and support each other, be humble and giving and help those in need. But that wasn’t what people did with religion — they took it and twisted it into their own sadistic narrative to hurt other people, to suppress them and to make their life miserable. They shunned and insulted, bullied and sometimes even murdered you if you were different — just because the original couple god had created was a man and a woman and because there was one small passage in the Bible that spoke of men not being allowed to lie with each other. It also said many different things; how about not wearing clothes made out of a specific material? Or what was that with stoning your own daughter to death if she did _whatever it was again_? 

Were these thoughts blasphemy already? Jiyong didn’t think so and he didn’t feel bad about wanting answers — _why were they hurting me? Why were they hunting us? What did I do wrong? How can I still believe in a religion whose believers want me dead? _

— whatever; he could still have a religious meltdown later, right now he needed to come up with a solution for him and his boyfriend. To find a way or a possibility of them being _save _(and preferably together).

He was so deep in his own thoughts he didn’t even fully realize that Seunghyun was awake — only when he felt his boyfriend touch his face with his hand and kiss him he snapped back to reality; he smiled into the kiss and momentarily forgot about all the issues they were facing now. Seunghyun’s kisses had that power over him — they tended to make him stupid in the head and forget about the world. 

“Morning, beautiful.“

“Good morning to you too, baby.“

Seunghyun smiled at him again, the same way he had the night before.

“You ready for breakfast?“

“Not yet.“

They didn’t talk much — instead they continued to look at each other, touch each other and just smiled at each other with so much fondness; right now they were still inside this bubble where everything was momentarily okay. There was no violent father at Seunghyun‘s home and no issues that needed to be solved. — just the two of them and they made good use of the empty apartment. 

Eventually they stumbled under the shower — which involved more blowjobs and handjobs — and only then they finally got dressed and went into the kitchen. Jiyong‘s mom had prepared lunch for the both of them with a small note attached; it was for Jiyong, telling him that he should give Seunghyun something against the bruises once they were awake and that they should eat and that they would talk as soon his father and herself came home — they would come up with a solution. 

That calmed him.

A mother‘s reassurance always had that power and Jiyong smiled. 

They sat down and ate their breakfast — their stomachs had already been protesting, but it just had been too good to let go of each other; besides, neither of them really knew when they would have the possibility of doing this again — of seeing each other again. 

It was something unspoken between them; they didn’t want to face reality — not now, not ever; so they soaked up every single moment they could have.

By the time Jiyong‘s parents came home the two of them sat curled up on the couch, holding hands under the blanket like they always did with warm smiles on their lips.

But those smiles disappeared quickly when they saw the faces of Jiyong‘s parents.

Seunghyun held onto Jiyong’s hand a little bit tighter.

“Seunghyun — I am so sorry, but I think it is best if you go home for now.“ Jiyong felt like fainting. “I know that this is the absolute worst situation right now, but you staying away from home won‘t make it any better and we simply have no resources to protect you or to give you shelter. You know who your father is and if he wouldn’t be such a scary person I‘d say move in — but _you know him_.“ Jiyong hated how he saw fear in his mother‘s eyes as she spoke — and she wasn’t only afraid of the man, this was more than just being afraid of some random guy. She was sincerely scared for all of them; for Jiyong, Dami, her husband and for Seunghyun, too. He knew that.

She had told him and Seunghyun both more than once that she saw Seunghyun already as a member of their family and Jiyong‘s father had always agreed. Through all the years Seunghyun had always been welcomed in their house, been part of their Christmas celebrations, their new eve‘s, everything — and he knew that this, _this right here _hurt her just as much as it hurt the both of them. 

Seunghyun was completely tense next to him and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Your mother called me — she wanted to know if you were here, to know if you were alright. She was crying so hard, she was so worried about you so I told her yes, you are okay and that I am taking care of you. She didn’t say much after that — just sincerely thanked me for taking care of you and she asked me to tell you to come home.“ she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don‘t know how your father will react when you come home tho, but the longer you stay away the worse it gets — you _know _that.“

The indication of what she meant by that felt like another blow to the stomach — Jiyong knew that Seunghyun knew; hell they all knew what that meant. It hadn‘t been the first time his good for nothing father had raised his hand against Seunghyun. This was too much — Jiyong buried his face in the crook of Seunghyun's neck.

He nearly started to sob when Seunghyun spoke up. His voice was oddly calm.

“Did she say a specific time when I should come home today?“

“No.“ his mother offered a warm smile, trying to reassure him “She just said that it would be best if it was today, before your father comes back from the base — which should be around 8 pm so you have about two more hours before you need to go.“

Jiyong felt Seunghyun nod, and clinged harder to his arm. He didn’t want Seunghyun to go — he didn’t want him to ever take a step out of this house ever again, he just wanted to curl up in bed with him and forget about the world around them; at least for the next two hours before Seunghyun had to go. This could be the last time for a very long time that he would be able to hold his boyfriend this close, to see him, to kiss him and he just needed his closeness right now. — But Seunghyun seemed to have another idea. 

Panic rose in Jiyong’s chest as he felt Seunghyun move — he was sitting up from the couch they were sitting on, moving away from Jiyong and Jiyong clinged even tighter to him. “Seunghyun? What are you doing — we still have two hours, please don’t go—!”

“If I don’t leave now it will hurt even more; it was a mistake to come here. I put your family in danger — I put you in danger, you _know_ what my father is like and what he is capable of. What if he decides to leave early from the base — what if I am not home by then, huh? Think about it, what is the first place he will come looking for me?” Jiyong swallowed hard; they were both crying now and Seunghyun’s voice was wrecked by tears. “Exactly — he will come _here_. What if he put two and two together? I don’t even want to think about it — I don’t care what he does to me, I _need you_ to be save. Do you understand?”

Seunghyun scooted closer for a moment, taking Jiyong’s face in his hands — their foreheads touching. “I need you to be save. I just have too — he can do whatever to me, but I can’t risk you getting hurt. Do you understand?”

There was a lump in Jiyong’s throat and hot tears streamed down his face — he nodded. As absurd this was, he understood what Seunghyun was trying to tell him and it tore his heart apart. Because he wanted the same for Seunghyun; he needed Seunghyun to be save — he knew all too well what his father was capable of and he knew that it would suck for his family, but Seunghyun had to _live_ with that man. He had to be around him all the time and he needed to listen to him and everything he preached and he had to obey his orders — Daddy’s little soldier. 

  
Jiyong’s face twisted painfully as even more tears streamed down his face and his whole body started to shake from the heavy sobs leaving his lips. There was nothing pretty about him crying in that moment — he knew he looked like shit, but he didn’t care. He just needed Seunghyun, who was now smiling at him in the warmest way; but his eyes were filled with sadness. 

Then everything happened so fast. 

There was a loud knocking sound coming from the entrance hall and then the front door was being thrown open and there was shouting — a man’ voice, deep and commanding and Jiyong froze on the spot. He knew that voice and it sent a shiver down his spine and he couldn't move — to afraid. All he could do was tense up even more and cling to Seunghyun.

— and then his father was suddenly in the room, marching towards them. His own dad tried to stop him, talk to him, but he got pushed aside easily. Seunghyun suddenly turned to Jiyong one last time, a pleading look on his face and quickly whispered something to him; low enough that his father wouldn’t hear it and then Seunghyun got yanked away from him. Jiyong immediately tried to grab him, needy fingers reaching towards him, but his hands got slapped away — Mr.Choi gave Seunghyun such a hard push he stumbled backwards and crashed against the bookshelf; and then there were hands on Jiyong’s collar and Mr.Choi pulled him up to his feet, nearly lifting him off the ground. 

“You dirty little _faggot_ — I always knew there was something wrong with you and now you have corrupted my poor son, too?” The fist came so fast Jiyong had no time to shield his face; his head snapped to the side and the pulsing pain spread across his face. He vaguely heard his own father cursing and Seunghyun screaming, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything right now — he was too scared of the man in front of him. “You girly fucking fairy, look at you no wonder my son is confused — you’re not a man and you never will be.” another blow to the face and then the stomach and Jiyong felt like passing out. There were already dark spots in his vision and he felt blood flowing down at the side of his face — everything was getting hazy, but as he looked over Mr.Choi’s shoulder he saw his boyfriend’s face; twisting in rage and pain as he screamed something. He couldn’t really understand what he was screaming — the only thing echoing in his ears was Mr.Choi’s deep voice.

“Stay away from my son and my family, or I will kill you.”

— and then he got dropped to the ground rather harshly; a kick in the ribs for good measure. He saw Mr. Choi punching his own son in the face again and rage flared up in his chest; he tried to get up, crawled towards them, but his mother was by his side now holding him back — his own father was trying to break things up between Mr.Choi and Seunghyun, but that only earned him a fist in the face as well. His blood was boiling now and he trashed around, trying to get out of his mother’s grip.

“Get your filthy paws off my boyfriend! Just because you are his father you have no right to treat him like that!”

But Mr.Choi wasn’t listening to him — why should he? Seunghyun was still struggling against him, trying to get away from the fierce grip around his neck, but then his father knocked his fist hard against his right temple and Seunghyun sagged to the ground, unconscious. 

“Seunghyun—!” Jiyong finally managed to get out of his mother’s tight grip and ran towards his boyfriend, holding onto his arm as his father kicked him away again. It hurt so much, but the thought of never ever seeing Seunghyun again hurt more — he needed to protect him, he needed him to wake up and — 

_“Seunghyun, Seunghyun, Seunghyun — !”_

“— Jiyong! Wake up, you are having a nightmare.”

His eyes snapped open and he sat up straight — there was cold sweat running down his back, his breathing was uneven and his heart was beating a mile per hour and he frantically looked around the room. He was disoriented and his head was pounding — the dream, no — the memory was still edged into his brain as if it happened yesterday and he felt his stomach twist and turn uncomfortable, making him feel as sick as he had felt on that day. 

Jiyong looked down on his hands; they were still shaking and his head was hurting so much — he hated this, he couldn’t possibly explain how much. These dreams had been occurring more and more again and it was driving him nuts. He finally looked up, seeing his secretary looking down at him with a worried expression on her face. She looked tired, but the worry was more prominent on her young features. 

  
He didn’t know what to say — he couldn’t speak anyways, but Hayi understood. It was far from the first time that it had happened and she had been his PA for years now so she knew how to handle these moments. She held up a few tissues so Jiyong could wipe away his tears and she carefully combed his hair back. “Do you want some tea? coffee? chocolate milk? I know you probably aren’t hungry, but this was another night of you stuck in your office working on the new collection and you probably haven’t eaten anything since yesterday noon, right?”

Jiyong managed a sad smile, but nodded. He was really grateful for that kid — she was only twenty-four, but had already been working for him since she was nineteen and she was something like a little sister to him. A little sister that often screamed at him for not eating properly — his previous PA, Chaerin, had taught her well in how to handle him and he always saw the same fiery temper in Hayi as he had always seen in Chaerin, when she still worked for him. (Chaerin had quitt about four years ago, since Jiyong had actually been the one who pushed her to start her own career as a business woman. He had seen her talent and he knew that she would be the only one who he could trust with his label and after a couple of months of intense training she became the CEO of his label — peaceminusone.) 

Ever since then his label had managed to quadruple their yearly income, secured their place in the fashion world, and had been invited (almost, begged) to join Fashion Week all across the globe. Paris, New York, Milan, Tokyo, Berlin, Madrid — you name it and Jiyong has probably been there already. It all had happened so fast in a way — when he first grounded his own label he was still studying fashion at the age of twenty-one; three years later and they got the first invitation to Fashion Week and now there was not a single Fashion Week where they didn’t want him and his fashion. 

Jiyong quickly cleaned his face and blew his nose. He had fallen asleep at his desk; the night before he had finished the last sketches and made a few mock-ups for his team to work with. Technically all he had to do was to give them his own sketches, or tell them to show him their own sketches and that was it, but that’s not how he wanted to handle things. 

Jiyong knew that many designers, once they reached a certain level of fame, simply were _too busy _to draw their own designs anymore and hired a few unknown designers to make all the work for them and all they did was slap their label on it, but there was no way Jiyong would do that. — So all-nighter in his studio between scraps of fabric and sketchbooks it was and he would never complain about it.

The only thing that did complain was his lower back, his neck and every muscle in his body. Jiyong stretched his tired limbs, some of the joints popping soundly as he rolled his shoulder and he sighed in relief. He really needed to stop doing this — falling asleep on his damn table; he wasn’t twenty anymore, but almost thirty and his back was not as forgiving as it had been when he was younger.

“Here, your chocolate milk and breakfast bagel; don’t gimme that look. You _have_ to eat something and if you dare to complain about the salad and tomatoes I will call Chaerin and I am sure that she does not appreciate getting woken up at 8.30 am in the morning on her day off, _right_?” 

“Sometimes I wonder who the real boss is; me, you know — the actual designer, or _you and Chaerin_.” he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reached for the chocolate milk. His stomach was still twisting from the nightmare he had and while he knew Hayi was right about him having to eat, he would try to stomach breakfast a bit later. 

His PA gave him an amused smile. “Well, you would totally lose it without us by your side and we are the only ones who can keep a diva like you in check.” Hayi walked back and forth between her own desk and Jiyong’s — collecting all the sketches and mock-ups and bringing Jiyong his schedule for the following week. They quickly fell into their daily work routine, discussing hard and soft facts for how they wanted to envision the next show, what Jiyong wanted the exhibition he planned in collaboration with artists from across the world to look like and when they would schedule the interviews. — it was something personal. He had managed to get Murakami and KAWS to work with him; tho that hadn’t been much of a struggle since he was friends with both. 

Murakami was working on a series of paintings, which he and Jiyong had agreed on before. Since one of the themes for the exhibition was past and future, Murakami had asked Jiyong if he maybe also wanted to talk about his past in Korea — how things were before he moved to New York City; and that was probably why these dreams had started again. 

Everything reminded him of Seunghyun — his first love.

But he tried to ignore the stabbing feeling whenever he thought of him and simply concentrated on the exhibition.

It helped him not think about the dream he had, not to think about Seunghyun and it was probably for the best anyways. The last time he had seen him Jiyong had been fifteen — that was almost half his lifetime ago and yet he still wondered about him. 

That day Seunghyun’s father had knocked him out cold and dragged Seunghyun away to some military base at the other side of the country, much like he had feared he would do, but that wasn’t enough. Mr.Choi had effectively scared the living shit out of his parents and he couldn’t blame them — not anymore at least. Looking back it really had been a life or death kind of situation, but he hadn’t always seen it like that. 

The next day when he finally woke up again his parents were already packing — at first he was confused; was there a trip planned he had forgotten about? But that wasn’t what was happening. The rumour that he was gay had spread like wildfire and his mother woke up to their family dog found dead on the front porch of their house — that had been a clear sign, but Jiyong had still been blinded by love. He had fought tooth and nail, screamed at his parents and sister that he just couldn’t leave Seunghyun like that and he had cried during the whole flight from Korea to the USA. 

He had hated his parents for forcing him to immigrate, hated them for truly separating him and Seunghyun for so long and it took him years and years to understand that they had actually saved his life back then. 

Didn’t mean he didn’t miss Seunghyun and still wondered. He didn’t even know if he was still alive — who knew what his father was capable of and he knew all too well how fucking stubborn Seunghyun had been all the time. There was no way his father had just convinced him to ‘drop the gay act’.

He truly was the one that got away. 

He was his first love and he would always have a special place in his heart for the boy that was once his best friend. Jiyong had hated Seunghyun when he remembered what he had whispered to him before his father dragged him away.

“_Be happy _— _forget about me and move on_.”

Those had been the last words he had ever heard from him. What kind of bullshit was that? To just move on? From someone like Seunghyun? Was he insane? 

But as the years passed he finally realized that he really had needed to hear these words from Seunghyun. He still longed for him in a way, simply wanted to know what happened to him and if he was alright — if he was still alive, but he couldn’t continue to pine after his first boyfriend forever. As much as the media liked to portray that behaviour as romantic or whatever, it really wasn’t. He shied away from so many people for the next three years, barely had friends when he was in high-school and got bullied for not speaking without an accent. He had been ridden with guilt for years, he didn’t allow himself to be happy, not when he didn’t know that Seunghyun was really happy, too. Jiyong had felt guilty for looking at another boy in his class, guilty for developing a crush on someone else when he was twenty, guilty for having sex with another man— 

but then he remembered what Seunghyun had told him and as much as it hurt, it also freed him. 

He was thirty-two now; dated a few times, but mostly stuck to faceless people and one night stands — not that he really had had much time in the past to date seriously anyways. 

But whenever he tried to date, he went all in. Gave his heart out and tried to make it work, but they all dulled in comparison to what he had felt with Seunghyun — they hadn’t been bad relationships, not at all, they just weren’t Seunghyun. So yeah, maybe he still hadn’t fully moved on from him after all and with all these dreams coming back suddenly it was a lot harder not to think of Seunghyun — this really was a never ending story, wasn’t it? Most of his close friends had already heard of him by now — he had even complained about it on his twitter account, only for them to mildly roast him about tweeting like a love sick teenager.

“— oh and then there is this issue with the exhibition.”

“Wait, what issue?” he finally snapped back to reality, thoughts of Seunghyun momentarily forgotten.

Hayi looked at him as if she wanted to throw the puncher at his head. “I told you just yesterday that we have a problem — the exhibition is in four months so we still have some time, but we still haven’t found an artist that will make new artworks for this exhibition. There tons and tons of no name artists, but most of them aren’t really what you had in mind.” His PA quickly went over to her desk and came back with a stack of files and dumped them all on his table. 

“Originally we wanted Murakami and he agreed, right?” Jiyong nodded; he and Murakami had met two or so years ago and had been friends ever since then. The man understood Jiyong and knew what he wanted for his exhibition and was the perfect choice — why the hell was there a problem now? 

“Well, he broke his arm and fractured his wrist, it will take weeks until it’s healed and then he will need physiotherapy for at least two months before he can touch any brush, pencil or whatever again. I talked to his PA this morning; she told me that he has maybe six to nine pieces done, but with an exhibition of this size we will need a few more than that so that’s where these—” she tapped on huge pile of files on his desk “—here step in. Most American painters are busy with their own projects right now so I searched world wide — these are about 49 different artists that are up and coming, but not really well known just yet — at least _here_. I tried to find as many as possible that would suit your taste, but you are the one who is calling the shots so you have to pick one who will be the best in your opinion. I was up all night so _please_ tell me you like any of them, because if not I might have a breakdown.”

Jiyong sighed soundly as he reached for the first file. “I’m sure you did a great job, Hayi. Why don’t you go and take a nap on the couch? You look like you are about to fall asleep.”, he absently waved towards the door to his right — his office was huge and he had made good use of it. In the room next to his main office so to say there was another one and he had made sure to place a huge, very comfortable couch in there for exact that reason. Napping when at work — and Hayi really did look like she was about to fall asleep any moment now. She looked relieved. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Now go get some sleep, kid.” — she must have been really tired, because she didn’t even put up a fight, but simply walked into the other room and planted herself face first into the couch. Jiyong snickered. This kid could be so fierce, yet so adorable at the same time.

He looked back at the pile of files on his desk and groaned. Whatever, Murakami was not available and six to nine pieces was not enough for the exhibition, he at least needed twice as much and that could definitely become a problem. Murakami had been working on these pieces since last year and he had a whole team that helped him create the sculptures and all that, but finding an artist that would create them all on his own in such a short time was hard. He quickly checked his emails, eventually finding the one sent by Murakami’s assistant. 

There were a total of seven artworks, three sculptures and four paintings. Jiyong had seen sketches and 3D animations of everything, but finally seeing them done was always amazing. There were another two that were half done, but there was no way he could use them for the exhibition — he had to take whatever they had to offer. 

This exhibition was different from the rest he had ever hosted; this was his way of showing the world that he was more than a pretty face, more than another one of those gay fashion designers, more than what the media portrayed him as. He, Murakami and KAWS had all sat down about a year ago and talked about what kind of paintings and artworks Jiyong wanted to have, what the topics should be — evolving was one of those topics. He wanted to show the world how far he had come and that he had had a hard time when he still lived in Korea and not in New York. He also wanted to show how things had been during that time in Korea and Murakami planned to add some of his own experiences. He might not be gay, but he was a very open minded man, and even though his humour sometimes was a little bit odd, he had a good heart and since he was a few generations older than Jiyong, he had seen even worse growing up in Japan. 

But now he only had a few of his artworks done and Jiyong desperately needed to find someone who would be willing to work for him, to produce artworks according to the theme of breaking free and starting over again, to let go of old habits and create something new and powerful, but would also reflect the hardships he went through as a kid. 

— Along with the exhibition Jiyong would also release his new collection he had just finished the night before. It was bolder than what he had than before, but more mature in a way, too. There were pieces that would be sold to fashion houses, and some that solely existed as artworks themselves. The broad majority of the public always trash talked about how terrible the high fashion was, that no one would ever wear that, and they were right. Some pieces would never be worn by anyone, because they simply reflected and expressed what the designer was feeling and thinking. 

Dami had teased him about it — said something about quarter life crisis and all that and he had simply ignored her. He knew she was only teasing, but in a way she was right. He knew he needed to change something, because even though this had always been his dream there was something missing that no amount of alcohol, exclusive VIP parties or expensive sport cars could fix and this exhibition had been the first step to it. Jiyong had already felt the subtle shift when he first had the idea for this exhibition and it progressed from there on — he worked through so many issues in the past two years, but the only thing that stayed were the dreams and the sharp sting he felt whenever he thought about Seunghyun. 

Jiyong had already worked through half of the artists and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes and yawned. He really took his time with these files, because he wanted to understand how the artists expressed themselves. It was more than just looking at their pictures and deciding he liked or disliked the way they painted — there was more depth to it than _that_. 

His back was hurting even more now and when he finally looked up at the clock he realized that it was already past noon. — shit, he needed a break. This would take him all day to finish anyways. He got up from his seat and was about to walk over to his couch when he heard the faint snoring coming from Hayi — she was still knocked out and sleeping on his couch and there was no way he was going to wake her up now. She deserved a break. 

He sighed again and looked across his room — his eyes stayed glued to the huge Murakami cushions in the back of the room where the couch was located at. Jiyong shrugged — whatever. These huge pillows were more comfortable than sleeping on his desk and at this point he would take what he could get. 

— Just that when he laid down and tried to sleep he couldn't. He was exhausted, his eyes were heavy and his back was killing him, but he wasn’t sleepy — Jiyong huffed and sighed as he changed position on the pillow, but nothing worked. He should maybe book an appointment with Dr. O’Connell, prescript him some sleeping pills or something that would calm him down enough that he could actually sleep — but that wouldn’t help him right now so he pulled out his phone and scrolled through Twitter. 

A few days ago he had tweeted1 something about Seunghyun, very vaguely, but his friends had roasted him nevertheless — expect Bajowoo. The man was a saint. He might look a bit scary with the torn mask he often wore and the dark makeup, but as soon as you got closer to him you just knew that he was the biggest softie. Plus, he was also going to be part of his exhibition — part of his collection was a collaboration with Bajowoo, something they had wanted to do ever since they became friends back in school and now they had finally managed it and Jiyong couldn’t be happier with the outcome. 

Something he wasn’t happy with was that he apparently had tweeted about Seunghyun _again_ sometime last night when he was half asleep and this time he had even posted a god damn _picture_. His heart stopped for a moment, two, three and he nearly dropped his phone as he saw the notifications pile up. What was going on?

He quickly tapped away on his screen until he could read all the comments his friends had left under his post — he had written ‘I still miss you, I wonder what your pretty face looks like now. Have you grown taller? Have you been well’ 2 in the caption and right now he just wanted to crawl under the next table and never come out again. He was just thankful that he had at least had the decenticity of posting it on his (semi) _private_ Twitter account and not the public one of peaceminusone (then again he never really used that one, the only ones who used that one was his PR team to promote stuff), but still it was embarrassing. 

He almost didn’t dare to look at the comments, but he did nevertheless and what he saw shocked him and made him freeze up. Jiyong had expected everything — teasing, terrible manips or _whatever_, but not _this_. 

Not SooJoo and Soohyuk, two of his best friends, realizing that they _knew_ him — knew who Choi fucking Seunghyun was. This couldn’t be right, it had to be a mistake. 

He frantically typed his response, not really believing what they were saying, but then his heart stopped. Soohyuk had _met _Seunghyun and as proof he posted a selca and he couldn’t help but squeal loudly when he recognized the other man in the picture as _his Seunghyun_. 

His heart was pounding so hard that his fingers started to shake as well and he nearly dropped his phone.

There, right next to Soohyuk who _always_ had teased him about not being able to forget his first love, was Seunghyun. _His_ Seunghyun — the other man had grown out of his baby fat and Jiyong felt like fainting. Where once were cute chubby cheeks were high cheekbones and a defined, chiselled jawline now and his hair wasn’t a complete mess anymore, but coiffed neatly and styled and he just looked utterly _perfect_.

Fuck — how did he get this lucky? His man aged like fine wine and he just couldn’t contain his excitement, much to Hayi’s dismay. 

“Mr.Kwon, please — stop screaming like that, what’s going on?” she was still drunk with sleep as she sat up, her hair was a mess and she yawned soundly. 

“Seunghyun!”

“What — did you have a bad dream again?”

“No! Soohyuk knows him! He has met him — here in the US!”

“Wait what?” — Jiyong immediately got up and held up his phone like an excited kid; Hayi was still sleepy, but then her eyes suddenly widened and she grabbed the phone to take a closer look. 

“_That_ is your Seunghyun?” — she stared up at him, disbelieve in here eyes.

“I know right, he grew up _so handsome_ I mean look at those eyes! His cheekbones! He is so handsome, how did I get this lucky?”

“What — no.” Hayi shook her head. “Jiyong, don’t you know who that guy is?”

He clicked his tongue, irritated by that question. “Of course I know who he is, he is my Tabi.”

But Hayi shook her head again. “No, Jiyong — this is an artist called T.O.P and believe me when I say that whoever he was when you knew him, he definitely isn't like that anymore.”

Now he was getting really annoyed — SooJoo and Soohyuk had tweeted the same, what was going on? “Oh, as if you know him that well! Why is everyone saying he is bad, he can’t be — this is Tabi, _my _Tabi. You don’t even know him!”

Hayi was looking at him again, a sad smile on her lips. “He is one of the artists I put on your list, but I wasn’t sure if I should actually do it. You see, while he is a good painter and artists, he is a giant prick. There was this gallery in Japan a few years ago and the host hit on him and he threw a fit, insulted him and called him a _dirty faggot_ and that wasn’t the only occasion that that happened. — He is known for his brilliant paintings, they are gloomy and dark and all that, but he is also known for being one of the biggest homophobes.”

“— no this can’t be true. Seunghyun would never — “

But then he got quiet for a moment. Hayi did have a point. He didn’t know Seunghyun anymore and he had no idea what had happened after he had moved away. Did his father really manage to convert him into believing that being gay was a sin? That everyone who liked the same gender was an abomination of god and should be punished? His stomach twisted again and he let out a shuddering breath. No — he didn’t want to believe it. 

“No — His father is one of the biggest assholes there is, I know that, but Seunghyun would _never_ be like that. He _hates _his father and he is _gay_. We were together for five years, you can’t fake that, you just _can’t_,” 

Hayi now had that pitying look on her face, as if she was telling him something obvious that everyone knew was terrible and he hated it. She reached for her phone and typed something into YouTube and Jiyong almost didn’t want to see it — but she handed him her phone and now he felt sick for real. It was a video from the gallery in Japan, he recognized it — he had been there before and there was Seunghyun, shouting at the host, insulting him and pushing him away, before storming off. The video ended and Jiyong just wanted to go home and cry for a week. He had _never_ seen Seunghyun this angry, this disgusted. Had he really changed that much? He fell back on his own ass and just sat there as the tears built up — no. He had to see it with his own eyes. 

Hayi had opened her mouth to say something, but Jiyong was already up, wiped away the tears and stalked over to his table where all the files were at and quickly looked them through until he found Seunghyun’s. A cold sweat had broken out on his skin and he felt dizzy as he looked at all the paintings and the small bio attached to the file. 

There was no denying it — this really was his Seunghyun. 

He put aside the file abruptly, staggering backwards and then he was out of the room, through the balcony door that was right behind his office desk and slammed it shut behind him. Jiyong moved on autopilot, fishing out his cigarettes and a lighter and quickly lit one. 

This was like a culture shock — a shock to the system and he didn’t know how to react to this. What could he possibly do now? He had spent years and years pining after Seunghyun and now he found out that his father had really managed to turn him into _this_? It hurt to even think about it and the nicotine wasn’t helping at all. It only made it worse. 

He flicked the cigarette on the ground, his breathing uneven and shaky, and did the only thing he knew that could possibly help him.

He called his mom. 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that these tags are here for a reason.

While Jiyong wouldn’t say he was a complete alcoholic, he did end up drowning his sorrow in alcohol — at least that night. His mom had been too shocked to really talk about anything over the phone and decided to come over that night with Dami in tow so they could really talk about everything. Plus, much like Jiyong, they both needed proof — they just couldn’t believe it and they were all speechless for the first twenty minutes until the first two bottles of wine were gone.

“This is insane.” — Dami was sitting on the couch, next to Jiyong still staring at the picture of Soohyuk and Seunghyun. “He was such a sweet and gentle kid, do you really want me to believe this? I mean — I am seeing it and I still don’t believe it.”

Jiyong knocked back the rest of the wine in his glass, humming in agreement. 

His mother joined him, reaching for the bottle again.

Seunghyun had been like a second son to her — hell, he had been part of their family. Learning that he had been raised into  _ this _ was devastating to say the least.

“I can’t believe it.”

Jiyong nodded again. 

His sister finally had seen enough and dropped the phone on the couch, getting up and walking up and down in his living room. He arms were crossed and Jiyong could easily see that she was angry — who wouldn’t be at this point? But then she abruptly stopped and turned to Jiyong. 

“I have an idea.”

Jiyong barely managed to suppress the ‘oh no’ and instead looked at her, with an worried expression. He knew his sister and her crazy ideas and whatever she had planned definitely was something crazy.

“You will seduce him.”

“I will what?”

“You still love him, don’t you?”

He sat down the glass and glared at her, not knowing what to say. Did he still love him? This morning he would have said yes, of course — a part of him always  _ would _ . But now he wasn’t so sure anymore. What if Seunghyun really had become this stranger? What if he really was this homophobic prick his father had always wanted him to him? 

But still. It was Seunghyun. 

He sighed. “Yes”

“Perfect, then we will simply schedule a meeting between him and you and all you have to do is give him a drink or two, bat your eyelashes and he’ll be all over you again.”

“Dami, that’s not gonna work —!”

“Let’s do this.” 

Jiyong stopped glaring at his sister and was now looking at his mom; his eyebrows raising high as he stared at her with an open mouth. Had he just heard right? Was his mother on board with this ridiculous plan?

“Mom you can’t be serious, I mean—”

“Well, it’s worth a shot isn’t it? We all saw how in love he was with you back then, you can’t just lock these feelings away forever and just ignore them. His father definitely has made him into this, but that doesn’t mean that he is a completely lost case — besides, if we don’t try this you will always have the ‘what if’ at the back of your head. I know you, Jiyong. You can’t tell me that you are just gonna accept this?”

He opened his mouth to fire back, but once again he didn’t know what to say. His mom had a point — this way he could see if Seunghyun really was this prick he (maybe) pretended to be or if there was still hope for him. Maybe he had just given up when he had left and didn’t put up a fight anymore, which, given the circumstances they had been in, had probably been the wisest decision for his well being. Plus if he really was that prick now, Jiyong would have an easier time with letting him go, probably. It would hurt like hell — but what hurt more? Pining after your first love and never trying it, or trying it and being able to move on when it doesn’t work out? He doubted that he would be able to just let go like that, but it would give him closure in a way. He would know what he was like now and would maybe stop daydreaming about the ‘ _ what could have been’s _ . 

Jiyong reached for the bottle again and took another swing.

He was totally gonna do this.

His movements were a bit slow, but he reached for his phone on the couch and immediately started to type out an email to Seunghyun’s assistant, studio,  _ whatever _ — there was a mail address and he just needed to see the other man. 

After years and years of drinking at parties and clubs  _ and  _ being a businessman he had mastered the ability to type out professional emails, even while he was piss drunk and out of his mind. 

Jiyong made sure to use the email he always had to use when contacting business partners or write a lengthy letter to Vogue for fucking up for the third time this month — this one didn’t include his given name and not many people even knew who was behind peaceminusone and right now that really was an advantage. He didn’t want Seunghyun to read his name and refuse because of it, he wanted to meet him and see him realize who was in front of him. 

He just really hoped that Seunghyun didn’t know already. 

And this really was a risky move, if Seunghyun did recognize him he would probably deny the offer, or he would accept which could lead to some serious trouble. Jiyong’s exhibition was about the hardships of coming out in a country that hated queer people, even today. About letting go of the past and moving on to better things — featuring an artist that was known for being an homophobic prick was definitely not what someone would call good publicity and Hayi and Chaerin would totally rip him a new one.

Whatever — no risk, no fun, right? 

Besides, maybe they were able to work things out for the exhibition and it wouldn’t be as bad as he feared it would be. What was the worst thing that could possibly happen?

That Seunghyun insulted him and storm off and never talked to him again?

— totally not scary. Not at all. 

Jiyong hit sent and it was done. 

He just had hired his now homophobic ex for his exhibition that would feature works that showed his vulnerable side to the public for the very first time. 

Fuck.

“Alright, who needs another drink?”

He didn’t wait for his sister or mother to speak up and simply walked over to the cabinet where he stored all of his alcohol, grabbed his favourite bottle of scotch and took a full swing straight out of the bottle. Alcohol always was the answer.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Okay — maybe not always the answer, because when he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and he realized he had passed out on the couch again he started to ask himself what the fuck the question had been in the first place. The room was still spinning when he got up, making his alarm clock shut up and unwillingly made his way over to the kitchen to pour himself the first coffee of the day. At least this night his back was not protesting like it usually did and his muscles only mildly hated him. God, he needed to work out more. 

He had only downed the first to gulps of coffee when his phone suddenly went off and he winced in pain holding his hand, nearly dropping his mug in the process. Maybe he really should stop drinking away his frustration. 

“What could you possibly want this early in the morning, Chaerin?”

“Oh, I just want to tell you that you have a meeting in about one and a half hours and that you should maybe, I don‘t know, get up and get decent. You were the idiot who asked for a meeting in the middle of the night and now they obviously want to meet you as soon as possible.“

“Wait, who do I have the meeting with?“

“T.O.P“

This time he really did drop the cup.

“Pardon?“

“You heard me, don‘t you remember? You wrote his PA last night, Kang something, and he was overly excited about it and asked for a meeting and Hayi scheduled it for 9 am this morning so sober up and don‘t fuck this up. You know we need another artist for the exhibition.“

Jiyong was fuming — he hated it when Chaerin acted as if she was the boss, not him, but before he could say something sarcastic she ended the phone call and he was left alone with his thoughts.

“Shit.“

He darted out of the kitchen, passing his almost still asleep sister on the way to the bathroom and quickly hopped under the shower. If he was going to meet Seunghyun he needed to look his absolute  _ best  _ — he should have really thought this through tho. 

Then again this abrupt change of plans also had a good side to it; this way he could only overthink everything for about two hours, and not days in advance. 

Within minutes he had washed his hair, scrubbed his skin with the best lotion he had and brushed his teeth with a face mask on. 

He needed to get rid of the heavy bags under his eyes somehow. 

Ten minutes later he darted into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and walked into his walk-in closet and started to look for something to wear. 

It was ridiculous, he was one of the most sought after fashion designers right now and he had nothing to wear for this occasion. 

Jiyong knew that he wanted to look good — no, he wanted to look drop dead gorgeous. He wanted to look so good that Seunghyun forgot everything his shit prick of a father had taught him and that he would fall in love with him all over again. He didn’t want to think how that was very unlikely and probably unrealistic; he just wanted to impress Seunghyun — to show him how far he had come in the last fifteen plus years and that he had worked hard. 

It took him longer than he liked to admit to finally find something suitable to wear — he didn’t want to be too extravagant; that would only feed the stereotypes that every queer man had an inner drag queen and while that maybe might have been true in Jiyong‘s case, he didn’t want to push his luck. So something remotely  _ normal  _ it was.

He decided to wear one of his most favorite Haider Ackermann shirts (the teal one), along with tight fitting black Tom Ford pants, the Black&White wing tip shoes from unique street fashion and a few bracelets and rings to complete the look. It was plain looking enough, he decided. The only thing still missing was a little bit of makeup around the eyes to make them pop and maybe lip balm, too. His fingernails had been painted just a few days ago and still looked fresh so he didn‘t bother with doing them again — the only thing he still needed to tame was his hair. Jiyong quickly brushed them back and slathered a little bit of one of the random hair products he had piled in his bathroom into them. As much as he loved crazy hairstyles, he also loved to look extremely professional on some occasions — now was one of them so he decided to simply slick back his hair. His hair was trimmed short at the sides of his head and at the back of his neck, while the hair on top of his head were growing out. 

Jiyong gave himself one last once over, nodding when he decided he liked what he saw and grabbed the fitted beige Chanel jacket that was slewn over the chair next to his bed and then he was out the door. 

He tried to not feed into his anxiety, about his fear of Seunghyun rejecting him and instead tried to focus on the important part for now; he really needed T.O.P for his exhibition so putting on his professional mask it was. As much as a nervous mess he was on the inside, he didn’t let it show — the only nervous tick he couldn‘t quiet suppress playing with his fingers, cracking the knuckles and twisting his pack of smokes in his hand while he stared out of the window of the car. The city was passing by quick, busy as ever, and Jiyong faintly wondered if he even was on time or late, as always.

The watch he had swatted on his wrist told him that he was even too early — twenty five minutes to be precise and Jiyong suddenly panicked. He nervously pushed back the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose as the chauffeur opened the door for him — he smiled politely, thanking him and got out of the car. 

The first thing he did was light another cigarette and took a few calming drags; he lazily walked up to the gallery where he would meet up with Seunghyun and his manager, trying to buy time so he could at least finish his cigarette before he walked inside — the presence of his bodyguard Jaeho right behind him. He looked back at the other man and smiled and Jaeho gave him a reassuring smile as well; the older man knew who Choi Seunghyun was and what he meant to Jiyong. When he had first hired him three years ago Jaeho had wanted Jiyong to tell him everything about his friends and family so he could memorize the faces and categorize who was okay to have close and who not. 

Having him beside him made him feel a little bit saver and more secure in his steps.

Jiyong stopped right before the entrance and flicked his finished cigarette into the ashtray next to it— there was no going back now. 

He quickly reached for the door and stepped inside — Jaeho following him like a shadow. 

A few employees were already busying themselves with preparing everything that needed to be done for the day, but as soon as he was inside all eyes fell onto him. He tried not to let his nerves show and politely smiled at them and he was extremely thankful when one of the employees walked up to him to welcome him. 

“Mr. Kwon! We didn‘t expect you for at least another hour — was your ride here okay?“

The woman in front of him probably was about ten years older than he was and reminded him a bit of someone he knew — maybe Hayi? But unlike Hayi she was all polite smiles and cheerful attitude — or maybe it just was because she was excited to see him for the first time; that happened a lot.

“Yes, everything went fine, thank you.“

He let his eyes wander. “Do you maybe want some coffee or tea? If you want, you can look around the gallery — all the paintings by T.O.P are in room two and three, but there are more backstage. Mr. Kang and T.O.P aren‘t here yet, since we didn‘t expect you to be here so soon, our apologies.“

“Coffee would be nice, thank you — and don‘t worry. I didn‘t really look at the time when I left, since it was only scheduled this morning so I left as soon as I was ready.“

The assistant smiled at him one last time, before she mentioned him to be free to roam around the gallery as he pleased while she got him his coffee. As soon as she was gone he finally let go of the breath he had been holding all this time — Seunghyun and his manager or whatever were not here yet and he was grateful. Just walking in on Seunghyun like that would be too much of a shock to the system and this way he could at least look at his paintings in peace. 

As much as he wanted this meeting to turn out well, that he could hire Seunghyun, he also needed to make sure that his work was what he was looking for and that pained him. It was as if two sides of him started to fight inside his head — the love sick side that told him that no matter what, he would hire Seunghyun so he could see him more often, and the business side that told him that no, he couldn’t just hire him, because this was his exhibition and it needed to be perfect and that wouldn’t work if the paintings sucked (which he really doubted they would, but you never know). 

Jiyong tried to tune everything out — the people around him, his rapidly beating heart, Jaeho behind him, the worries forming inside his head — so he could really pay attention to the paintings, to see if they spoke to him and if he really wanted what they had to offer. He closed his eyes and let out one long, drawn out breath before he opened them again and walked into the second room of the gallery and he gasped at what he saw. 

The paintings varied in size and shapes and there were also a few sculptures; one in every corner of the room. He stepped closer, to fully inspect them and look at the motives, the brush strokes and the motive behind the painting and Hayi had been right; they were gloomy and dark, and while the technique was utter perfection they all screamed one thing:  _ loneliness _ . 

Loneliness and so much more; it was a mixture between abstract and realism, it reminded him of a mixture of Bacon, Helnwein and Cahn if that made sense at all. He took another step towards the painting he had been looking at for the past two minutes, he was now only about two steps away from the artwork. 

This painting gripped him at the core of his body and didn't let him go; it was a painting from the small place near the Han River where he and Seunghyun had always run up to play, where they had their first kiss, but this painting didn’t reflect happiness and love, it reflected pain, loneliness and melancholy. The brush strokes were abstract to the point where someone else might have recognized a total different scene, but Jiyong knew this place, knew it‘s meaning. 

There was a figure standing close to the river, faceless and motionless — and they had a cord or something wrapped around their neck, suffocating them and tying their arms against their chest and Jiyong suddenly forgot how to breath as his mind started to go into overdrive — analysing the meaning behind this painting. He felt tears sting in his eyes and his heartbeat was increasing and he needed to look away from the painting; he quickly walked into the middle of the room and sat down on the couch that had been placed in the center, quickly wiping away the pinpricks of tears that had formed in his eyes and took another few calming breaths as he stared at the white ceiling.

While it wasn’t what he had imagined he had wanted at his exhibition, he realized that this was even more fitting than what he and Murakami had worked on. Murakami‘s work was veiled by bright colors and happy motives and he loved it — but this? This was like a slap in the face, the honest truth of how things had been when he had been growing up in Korea, how miserable he had felt for being queer whenever someone bad mouthed the LGBT+ community again. These paintings showed the oppression they had all felt when they lived there and he didn’t care what Seunghyun had told the critics or his father what they meant — Jiyong knew the real meaning behind them. 

He got up from his seat and quickly scanned through the description of the painting; it was something about the importance of having to confront to the public and their standard, but it just didn’t make sense to Jiyong. It was so clear to him what this painting actually meant that whatever they had written down here was just bizarre.

He walked back to the painting, looking at it again, trying to see the meaning in the description, but he just couldn‘t see it. 

Jiyong was so deep in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the figure walking up next to him and he flinched away when the person started to talk. 

“They certainly are something different, aren’t they?“ — it was the woman from before; she was smiling at him and offered him his cup of coffee which he thankfully took, taking a sip right away.

“They are.“ He didn’t know what else to say at this point. There was still a lump in his throat and he felt shaken up to the core — it was clear to him that Seunghyun, deep inside, still was the same kid. He knew that even if someone pretended to be something else that their art never lied — you could lie about your opinions, your faith, everything, but your artworks were something you barely had control over and Seunghyun‘s artworks were far from the homophobic prick he so desperately tried to portray. 

“Mr.Kang and T.O.P will arrive in a few minutes — I will accompany them to you as soon as they are here. While we are waiting is there anything else I can do for you?“

“No, thank you. I‘m gonna look at the paintings a little bit more. If I need anything, I will make sure to get to you.“

“Alright!“ — she smiled one last time at him, before walking back to the entrance hall, but then she stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. “It‘s good to see you again, Jiyong. I‘m happy to see that you managed so well after you left — I am really proud of you.“ 

Jiyong froze — wait, what? His eyes grew in size as he finally took a closer look to the woman in front of him and then it finally clicked.

The woman in front of him was Hyeyoun, Seunghyun‘s older sister. 

While they had still lived in Korea they had spent most time at his own house, since Seunghyun‘s dad was such a strict stuck-up person and he only sporadingly saw her — especially after she had moved out and in with her husband. 

He gaped. “Hyeyoun?“ 

She started to laugh. “So you really didn’t recognize me when you walked in? — and I thought you were trying to be a professional business man and that‘s why you reacted the way you did. How have you been? It‘s been such a long time—“

Jiyong didn’t know where the sudden wave of affection came from, but he walked up to her with quick steps and pulled her into a tight hug — a huge smile forming on his face as her words started to settle in. She was proud of him, despite her knowing that he was gay? — and there was no way she didn‘t know. 

He pulled away, the smile still present on his lips and she laughed at him again. “Aw, look at you! You are still as cute as you were back then.“ — Hyeyoun playfully pinched his cheek and Jiyong had to laugh again. 

“Hey, I am peaceminusone now, you can‘t just pinch me in the cheeks like you did when I was young!“, but he was still laughing. 

“Oh, don‘t gimme that — you are still the same. You just grew in size and are now wearing expensive clothes.“ 

“Yeah — maybe you are right.“ he opened his mouth to talk to her again, to speak a little bit more — he just had so many questions — but then he felt another presence in the room and from the way Hyeyoun‘s carefree posture changed to straight and proper he could already tell who it was, but he didn‘t dare to turn around. 

Instead, he continued to look at Seunghyun‘s sister and provocatively took a sip from his coffee, as if he wasn‘t aware of what was happening. 

Hyeyoun suddenly looked uneasy, a nervous smile on her lips and Jiyong nearly threw his coffee mug as she spoke up. 

“Hello father, I didn’t know you‘d be accompanying us today.“

The rush of adrenaline made his heart knock against his ribcage. Seunghyun‘s father was here as well? What the hell was that about? — but he swallowed all his nerves, he was a professional and used to pretending that everything was alright when he stepped on stage to present the new collection, while he knew that everything was going down the drain backstage. 

“How could I not come along if we are meeting the creator behind peaceminusone? I have never seen him in person and I have to say that his creations are excellent.“ — at this point Jiyong couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or earnest; the only thing he realized is that the other man sounded older than he had been. It had been more than 15 years by now — he shouldn’t be surprised. 

He reached for his sunglasses and put them down and then he turned around with a polite smile on his lips — he couldn’t help but grin a little bit when saw the shock in Mr.Choi‘s face as he recognized him. He smiled even more when he saw Seunghyun‘s face — he was staring at him and he noticed that he suddenly looked a bit paler than before and was breathing hard. Good; this reaction was a thousand times better than no reaction at all — this was something he could work with.

“Thank you, it is always nice to hear that people enjoy my work.“ 

Silence stretched between all of them for five seconds, before Seunghyun‘s father exploded. 

The other man had indeed grown old and was suddenly not as much of a threat as when Jiyong had been a kid, tho the memories of what had happened last time still made him panic — the man was probably around 58 or something by now and even though Jiyong wasn‘t working out like he should, he still felt more confident in his skin than when he had been fifteen. 

“You — you fucking  _ faggot _ , how dare you walk into my gallery and—!“

Jiyong could already sense Jaeho behind him, glaring over his shoulder and the cockiness he usually had when dealing with idiotic homophobes flooded him. He looked at Seunghyun, but the other man had taken a step back and was glaring at the ground. 

“As far as I know,“ and Jiyong couldn‘t help but smirk at that “this gallery belongs to Mrs. Hoffmann — I know that because she and I are friends.“ Mr.Choi was already fuming and he knew that Jaeho was ready to pounce at every given moment. “Besides, I am not here to talk to  _ you  _ — I am here to talk to T.O.P who I actually scheduled this meeting with.“ he turned to Seunghyun, pushing past his father who was glaring daggers at him and handed Seunghyun one of the files about the exhibition he had brought along. 

“I am not sure if you are aware or not, but in about five months I am holding an exhibition that is very personal and dear to me — originally Murakami was the one who would have made the paintings and sculptures — along with KAWS, but he sadly fractures his wrist the other day and therefore can‘t finish his works on time. I have seen your work and —“

“Sorry,“ suddenly Seunghyun‘s whole body language changed and he went from mildly panicked and uneasy, to downright dismissive and repellent and there was a scowl on his face, pushing the file back into his hands. “— but I don‘t work with  _ faggots  _ like you.“ Even his eyes had turned cold and hateful and his facial features had turned hard and then he just walked past Jiyong, storming out of the room.

Jiyong ignored the stabbing pain in his chest, turned around and lifted the files as he spoke up again, trying and hopefully succeeding in masking his shaking voice. “I have exclusive interviews with  _ Sotheby's _ since the paintings that are displayed will be up for auction; plus there will be numerous prestigious artists and collectors —  _ David Zwirner _ said he‘d come; I am sure you know his name as well as well as his gallery downtown.“ he stopped for a moment, nonchalantly sipping at his coffee, “—and since my label is one of the most well known in the US right now, there might also be a few a rank celebrities, I heard DiCaprio is a huge art enthusiast — Pitt as well, but you are right. What would you need the publicity for if you are doing so well on your own, right  _ Seunghyun _ ?“ 

Seunghyun finally stopped in his tracks, not turning around.

It took everything in him to be this cocky and pushing if all he wanted to do right now was to run up to Seunghyun, hug him and never let him go again. He just wanted the other man to look at him like he used too, like he  _ mattered  _ to him. If it meant that they would be able to spent more time together he would play dirty if he had to. Seunghyun seemingly wasn’t going to make this easy for him, especially with his father still in the picture, who was still glaring daggers at him and he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand up as the glooming presence of Seunghyun‘s father got stronger. He felt how the fear started to creep up inside of him and panic spread through his body again the longer the moment stretched on between them.

He prided himself in not flinching when suddenly another person darted into the room, slightly out of breath, but with a brilliant smile on his lips. “I am so sorry, Sir. I got caught up in the traffic — my name is Kang Daesung and I am the PA of T.O.P!“

Mr. Kang walked up to him, still smiling and greeting him and Jiyong felt a little bit better about himself. “Not a problem, I just proposed an idea to T.O.P, but I think he will need a little bit more time to think it over.“ he lifted the files again, this time towards Mr. Kang who thankfully took them. “Everything you need to know is in there — there is also my PA‘s as well as my private number in case you have any questions or want to arrange another meeting.“ he ignored the disgusted scoffing coming from Mr. Choi and politely smiled at Mr.Kang and Hyeyoun one last time.

“If you excuse me now, I have meetings lined up all day long —“ he turned towards Seunghyun again, looking past his father. “I really hope you think about this rationally, Seunghyun. I am looking forward to work with you.“ 

He didn’t get any reaction from the other man, as expected, but Hyeyoun smiled at him, which earned her another glare from her own father and the smile quickly disappeared. 

Jiyong suddenly felt sick again, but forced a smile, before he turned around and walked out of the gallery with Jaeho in tow. He bit his lip, trying to hold it together until he was inside the save coffins of his car where no paparazzi could see him, but as soon as he stepped outside the gallery he heard heated voices behind him and the tears started to form in his eyes. 

Jiyong quickly reached down to his sunglasses and put them on — at least that way people wouldn’t immediately realize that he was crying and then he practically dived into the car. 

As soon as the door fell shut behind him, he started to cry in earnest. His shoulders were shaking and he gasped for air between hiccups and he vaguely registered Jaeho telling the chauffeur to drive them home. 

It took them fifteen minutes to reach his place and Jaeho practically dragged him out of the car and into the elevator — he was still crying when the door of his apartment fell shut behind him. 

“Come on, Ji. Why don‘t you sit down for a moment so you can call down a bit.“

“I am calm, don‘t baby me.“ he knew Jaeho meant well, but he just wanted to be alone right now. Jiyong reached for the pack of smokes and lit another cigarette as he walked through the living room and collapsed on the couch. There were still tears on his face, but he couldn’t care less — he even ignored the light tremble of his hands as he glared at his cigarette. 

The image of Seunghyun looking at him like  _ that  _ — that hurt. He knew that it was probably only his father‘s doing, but seeing his first and true love like that was nothing he could have prepared himself for. The childish part inside of him had hoped that Seunghyun would see him and forget all about his homophobic antics and everything his father had forced him to believe, had hoped that their love was strong enough to break him out of this brainwashing, but apparently it wasn’t and there was no way Seunghyun was going to work with him — no matter how amazing the opportunity might have been for him. 

He took another drag, Jaeho now sitting down next to him. 

“Do you think he will call?“ — it was probably useless to ask that question, especially since Jaeho didn’t know any of them personally, but he just wanted to hear the opinion of someone who wasn’t directly involved in this mess. 

Jaeho was quiet for so long that Jiyong almost gave up.

“To be honest, I think he will.“ 

Jiyong looked at his bodyguard with a puzzled expression on his face — was he serious? Had he not see the way his father and Seunghyun had reacted?

“No, really — I think he will.“ but Jiyong still didn’t believe him, which made Jaeho sigh in frustration. “Look — yes, the first interaction wasn’t the best, but it could have been so much worse. He could have punched you in the face and just walked away — but he  _ didn’t.  _ And then you started to talk about all the perks of this exhibition that every artist would just die to be part of, but he only stopped when you said his name. Maybe it was my imagination, but it really seemed like there was something more behind that reaction — I mean, think about it logically; his father probably spent the last fifteen years beating and disciplining him into something he never wanted to be, but somehow ended up succeeding. Seeing you must be a shock to him as well, you can‘t just expect him to forget the things he probably went through and just come running back to you. Maybe he had already accepted that he would never see you again and in an abstract way really did push his true sexuality away, completely denying it — and now you come walking into his gallery all of a sudden, styled and dressed up like you just stepped off the runway and all that — don‘t you think that is reason enough for him to have this old inner conflict flaring up inside of him?“

Jiyong was quiet now, simply staring at the red cherry at the end of the cigarette. 

Jaeho had a point — he knew he did, but it didn’t really secure the possibility of Seunghyun calling him and wanting to work with him; but that thing with Seunghyun only stopping after he heard him say his name —  _ that  _ had to mean something, right?

He sighed heavily and let himself fall back into the couch, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table, before he rubbed his hands over his face. Why was love so fucking exhausting? Why couldn’t he just forget about Seunghyun, forget all these feelings and move on? It certainly would have been easier than  _ this  _ — but Jiyong didn’t want easy, he wanted Seunghyun and Seunghyun only and he would fight for him if he had to. 

“I hope you‘re right.“

Jiyong could feel Jaeho grinning at him. 

“You know I always am — now come on, we need to get your ass to the office. Hayi is probably losing her shit by now and we don‘t want to piss off Chaerin now, do we?“

Jiyong groaned and buried his head in one of the pillows. 

He just wanted to sleep. 

* * *

Jiyong had spent the rest of the day talking with Hayi and Chaerin about the exhibition and going through the rest of the artists that could be a possibility for the exhibition, but now that Jiyong had seen Seunghyun and his paintings, he didn’t want anyone else — how it usually was. 

It was frustrating to say the least, but he somehow ended up picking three other artists that could  _ maybe  _ be part of his exhibition, but only if he let all of his expectations go and just accepted the fact that he needed to have  _ someone  _ paint them. Maybe he should just paint them themselves and tell everyone to  _ fuck off _ — it was his exhibition after all so why not? 

But he knew that there was no time for him to sit down and paint — besides he was complete rubbish at painting, all the could produce looked like a chihuahua had ran across a sheet of paper with paint brushed tied to each leg. 

Hayi had given him the ultimatum — if Mr. Kang or anyone did not call until the end of that week he had to pick one of the other artists and simply move on and accept the fact the Seunghyun was a number one asshole now who was so far in the closet he might as well be a citizen of fucking Narnia. 

Hearing these words and laughing at them was easier than accepting them though, but he tried to get back in the game and simply concentrated on his work and his work  _ only _ . — and it worked, until to the point it didn’t work anymore and Jiyong started to panic because it was already Friday and there was only half an hour left before everyone at the office could go home. 

The realization that Seunghyun really was not going to call was slowly starting to settle in and he hated how much it affected him. All he could do was stare at the clock at the other side of the room, counting the seconds and minutes that had passed since he started to stare at it — still hoping that someone would call. 

He nearly had a god damn heart attack when his phone suddenly went off. 

He tried to calm his heart before picking up, but it was no use. 

“Hello?“

“Mr. Kwon — is that you? I am sorry to call this late, you probably are on your way home already, but I wanted to ask if the offer for the exhibition still stands?“

It was Mr. Kang — Jiyong nearly peed himself in excitement,  _ ohmygod  _ did this mean that Seunghyun wanted to work with him?

“Yes — and yes the offer still stands. You are right on time, today was the last day you would have been able to accept, before we would have picked another artist. Does this mean that T.O.P is willing to work with me for this exhibition?“

“He is — there were some misunderstandings, a family quarrel so to say, but everything is well now and it would be an amazing opportunity to work with you. I talked to your PA already and we scheduled another meeting where you and T.O.P can discuss everything in person this weekend. We are really thankful for this, Mr.Kwon.“

He had to bite his lip in order to stop himself from grinning so big. “Of course, and thank you. T.O.P is a talented painter, he will be an amazing addition to the exhibition and I am glad that you changed your mind. I will be looking forward to the meeting.“

Right as he said the last few sentences to Daesung, thanking him again, Hayi stormed into his office — her hair a tad out of place and an expression on her face he had never seen before and as soon as he hang up she stormed towards him. 

“How the  _ hell  _ did you manage to convince that homophobic prick to work with you? I mean, this is fucking T.O.P — he is an absolute asshole, especially his father and all you did was walk in there and he agreed?“

Jiyong was still grinning. 

“Whatever — I don‘t want to know, your next meeting with T.O.P is this Sunday at 7 pm. You have to attend Fashion Week in Madrid on Saturday so it‘s the earliest I could arrange. Think about what you want to have for the exhibition while you are away so it will be less awkward on Sunday for all of us, okay?“

He could just absently nod, his head still in the clouds. Did this mean that maybe Seunghyun hadn't completely forgotten about him and about his past? Was there still a possibility of them working out? There were so many possibilities — so many ways he could approach Seunghyun the next time they met. He wanted to work with him one way or another so there was no way he was going to run away just like that so there was the potential possibility (ha) that he could really try to seduce him. 

Oh, this was going to be fun.

* * *

When he arrived back home on Sunday he was completely drained — it was around 2pm in the afternoon and he desperately needed a nap and he was really thankful that there were still five hours left until the meeting. As much as he always enjoyed every kind of Fashion Week, it was utterly exhausting and he had to answer so many questions about his exhibition and who would take Murakami‘s place that he almost committed homicide — his scripted answer to the reporters was that he couldn’t say anything just yet and that he wanted to keep it a surprise. 

After a two and a half hours power nap, a shower and a very late breakfast he finally felt close to being a human being again — he hated long distance flights, especially if he was hungover from the day before and something he also disliked how different the climate often was. While it had been incredibly hot in Madrid, the weather in New York was anything but — it had been raining the past two days and it didn’t seem to stop anytime soon. 

Jiyong was thankful that Hayi had had the decenticity to schedule the meeting in one of his favorite places to visit — The Red Carpet. It was a lounge and served the best drinks and was perfect for business talks; at least in his opinion. There was booze, good music that was low enough that you could talk perfectly fine with everyone at the table, and the waiters were worth looking at. 

For this meeting he didn’t want to stick to a too professional outfit — Seunghyun had already agreed to work with him so he could stick to something a little more extravagant; he wanted to seduce the other man after all. 

This time he wore skin tight red leather pants that fit him like a second skin, along with a black shirt with a wide collar — it was perfect to show off his collarbones and amazing thighs. For this outfit he choose his favorite leather jacket — it was matt black and a little roughed up a the edges and there were studs on the shoulders — and one of the several Doc Martens he had piled up in his closet. Next, he tied one lose black scarf, that was more like a veil, around his neck and the look was completed. 

There was no way Seunghyun wouldn’t stare at his ass or legs — while he hadn’t always been graced with a round ass, these pants worked wonders and he was totally gonna use that tonight. 

One last look in the mirror like always and he was out of the door. 

Mission:  _ ‘Let‘s seduce Seunghyun‘ _ was about to start.

* * *

When he arrived he easily spotted Seunghyun and Daesung — they were the only ones in here that weren’t laughing out loud, but looked a little bit out of place. At least Seunghyun did — Daesung seemed relaxed as he leaned back into the comfortable couch and flipped through his calendar. 

“Good evening, gentleman. Happy to see that you decided to come.“ he sent both of them a dazzling smile, but only Daesung returned it. Seunghyun was glaring at him. 

“Welcome back from Madrid, how was Fashion Week? I must say, I am impressed that even though you only came back today, you agreed to have this meeting now.“

“Well — that‘s why I choose this place; the weekend was a lot of work and I really need to relax a little bit. Here we can talk about business and everything and still have a good time, you know?“ he winked at Seunghyun, who only seemed to tense up even more — he rubbed the side of his neck and sat up straight.

“Alright, whatever — can we now please discuss what you hired me for?“ he was still glaring, but at least he seemed willing to work with him. That was at least something. 

They got disturbed by one of the waiters — he was probably two or so years younger than Jiyong, but was easily a head taller than him and looked like an alternative universe version of Chris Hemsworth. Jiyong had noticed him before; how could he not — the waiter always flirted with him, but Jiyong just wasn’t really into him. 

“Good evening, Sir. — Your usual?“

“Yes, thank you  _ darling _ — and for the other two?“ 

Daesung was the only one who spoke up. “Just beer, please.“

“—and for you?“

Jiyong turned around and looked at Seunghyun, only to see that his scowling had deepened even more and that he looked down-right scary. Had he missed something? 

“Bourbon.“ — Jiyong could swore that he had never seen the waiter disappear this fast after taking orders. Had Seunghyun been so irritated by him calling him ‘ _ darling’ _ ? 

_ ‘Cute‘ _ — a smile tugged at the side of his lips as he looked at Seunghyun, who pretended like nothing had happened. He continued to talk with Daesung about Fashion Week a little bit more until their drinks arrived and they finally started to talk business. 

Jiyong had taken everything with him that he and Murakami had been working on and showed Seunghyun what he had in mind for the exhibition — about how he wanted to show off a different side of him, how he wanted to show some of the hardships of immigrating into the US and what it was like to live in Korea as a queer kid. He could see that Seunghyun tensed up as the last topic came up and Daesung suddenly looked a bit nervous. 

“I am sorry to say this, but —“ Daesung looked even more uncomfortable now “T.O.P isn’t really known for showing his, uhm, support? Towards the LGBT+ community, you know?“

“Oh, I know.“

Daesung looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights and even Seunghyun looked slighted taken aback by that. 

“Then why the hell do you want to work with me?“

Jiyong wasn’t sure how he should answer that — should he speak truthfully and let Daesung know that they used to be a couple when they were younger? The childish part in him wanted to rub it in everyone‘s face that this oh so homophobic prick had sucked his dick on more than just one occasion, but he knew Seunghyun would never forgive him for that so he stuck to an alternative version.

“We used to be best friends, Seunghyun — you can‘t deny that, and this exhibition is  _ personal _ , okay? While I know you didn’t exactly develop into the direction I had hoped you‘d do I still see the same chubby kid when I look at you and becoming a painter had always been your dream and now  _ look at you, look at these paintings.  _ Yes, you have changed, and I can‘t really say to the better, but your paintings are magnificent and exactly what I need — they are dark and gloomy and I see something in them that reminds me a lot of the time I spent in Korea.“

He stopped to talk for a moment, choosing his next words wisely.

“— and I know that if you really were utterly disgusted by queer people like you said you were, you would have never even considered working with me. You could have just walked away and said  _ ‘no‘ _ . Your father probably would have been happier with that than seeing the two of us reunite again.“

He felt Daesung staring at him, mouth slightly agape, but his eyes remained glued to Seunghyun, who was pointedly staring at the table, not making eye contact.

“I think that this could be a good opportunity for you, you know. While you don‘t like me much anymore, I still consider you my friend. Besides, one of the topics of the exhibition is evolving, so who knows — maybe we will get to see a different side of you, too.“

Jiyong wanted to say so much more — but every word burned in his throat and he felt the painful tug in his chest get worse the more he spoke. Shit — talking about this hurt. He just wanted his Seunghyun back, but what was he doing instead? Ignoring him, pretending to be a stranger and telling him he was a faggot. 

It always felt like a punch in the face and it  _ burned _ .

He wanted to finally shake him up and pull him out of his trance —

But instead, he showed them the blueprints of the huge storage hall where he was going to host the exhibition, ignoring the awkward silence that had settled between them when Seunghyun just refused to answer and clenched his jaw. He couldn’t put too much pressure on Seunghyun anyways, otherwise it could escalate and he could maybe scare him away for real. 

He needed to find the balance between seducing him, being nice to him and showing him that there was literally nothing bad about being gay — but he needed to stay professional too and that was probably the hardest part. 

So he talked about the location; the reason why he chose that particular spot was because it reminded him of the times he was in Korea — he knew Seunghyun knew what he was talking about, but continued to explain nevertheless. Daesung was listening to him in awe as he talked about the old storage hall not far from his old home where he and his best childhood friend had always played in — it hadn‘t been save in the slightest, but it had been fun and it was the perfect place to play hide and seek at and the more he talked the more he felt Seunghyun relax; he was still sitting stiffly on the couch, hovering over the plans spread out on the desk. 

Seunghyun continued to sip at his drink and only sporadically asked a few things about the motives and looked through the sketches Jiyong had prepared — but then he started to frown and his whole attitude grew cold again and Jiyong knew that things would probably get a bit complicated. 

He saw Seunghyun lean back in his seat, knocking back the rest of his second Bourbon and then he was staring at him — Daesung had only left them a few seconds before, answering an important call or whatever, Jiyong hadn‘t paid too much attention to him; he was too nervous about the fact that he and Seunghyun would be alone together for the first time after fifteen or so years. — and then Seunghyun finally spoke up.

“Why do you want to work with me.“

Jiyong snorted. “Isn‘t that obvious? I mean, I kinda told you a few minutes ago that I still consider you my friend.“

But Seunghyun played dumb. “No, it isn‘t — that‘s why I am asking and you can‘t tell me that after fifteen fucking years you still see me as a friend. That happened a fucking lifetime ago.“

Swallowing the pain in his chest was the worst feeling he had ever experienced; not even getting punched in the face came even close to what he was feeling now on the inside, but he remained calm. 

Jiyong leaned forward, resting his head in the palm of his hand and smiling at him sweetly. “I think you damn well know what I am talking about Seunghyun — I know that you remember.“

“Don‘t talk like that — I don‘t remember a damn thing. You make it seem like we have some kind of history and I can tell you now; we do  _ not _ . I am not a faggot like you, I'm not like  _ that _ . You are sick, don‘t you see that?“

There was a moment of silence between them — the music playing in the distance and laughter echoing through the room — and Jiyong let it pass. He simply smiled at Seunghyun, because they both knew that that was a lie. Jiyong reached for his cocktail again and raised it to his mouth — his eyes slightly hooded and filled with a gleam of hunger. “So you don‘t remember that night? When you we made love—“

“Shut up.“ Seunghyun didn’t move a single muscle, expect for the ones in his jaw as he gritted his teeth.

“Oh, I won‘t. Because I know you remember — don‘t you? How my legs wrapped around your waist and how you pressed your body against mine — and how it felt when you kissed and fucked me.“ 

“—I said; shut up!“, this time Seunghyun slammed his fist against the table, but Jiyong didn‘t flinch. Getting an emotional reaction like that was probably the best thing right now — if Seunghyun had really been disgusted by what he was saying he would have just gotten up and walked out of the door, but he hadn’t and Jiyong saw a tiny flicker for only one second flare up in Seunghyun’s eyes. 

It was enough to let him know that whatever he pretended to be wasn’t him.

Instead of moving away, he let his tongue play with the straw of his drink before he sucked it into his mouth and took a sip. 

Seunghyun‘s eyes were glued to his mouth and Jiyong saw how his expression shifted — it was hunger, want, lust, everything combined. He had seen that look on his face before and it felt like someone had lifted the weight off his shoulders — 

Seunghyun still wanted him. 

It as if molten heat shot through his body, making his skin tingle and the hairs at the back of his neck stand up in the best way possible. He didn’t dare to look away, not when Seunghyun was looking at him like that after  _ years _ . 

He scooted a bit closer to Seunghyun who still wasn‘t moving.

Jiyong slowly sat down next to him, placing his drink on the table in front of him and leaning sideways to Seunghyun — his chest nearly touching the older man‘s shoulder and his mouth close to his ear. 

“Don‘t you remember the first time we kissed? We were nothing but kids, but even back then I knew that you had my heart — I was so in love with you and those five years with you were the best of my life.“ he kept his voice low and sweet and his right hand slowly danced over Seunghyun‘s thigh until he finally placed it on the thick muscle. “You know what the only thing is that I regret?“

Seunghyun didn’t answer, but it was obvious that he was still listening so Jiyong went in for the kill — his tongue slid over the sensitive skin of Seunghyun‘s neck; it had always been his weak spot and Jiyong smirked in satisfaction as he felt the faint shudder rocking through Seunghyun‘s body. 

“You‘re fucking sick —“, he was speaking through gritted teeth, but stopped when Jiyong trailed kisses down his neck and let his hands slip down between his legs, cupping him through his pants.

“If I am sick — then so are you.“ — Jiyong could feel how Seunghyun was growing hard in his pants, could feel the heat radiating off him and how is breathing turned shallow; maybe seducing him would be easier than he thought it would be?

— but their moment got disturbed by Daesung, who finally came back from outside and their spell was broken. Seunghyun immediately flinched away and looked the other way, the scowl spreading across his face again. 

Daesung seemingly hadn't really noticed what he had walked in to, still looking at his phone while he apologized for the disturbance. As he finally looked up at smiled down at them Seunghyun suddenly sprang to his feet, pushed past him and rushed out of the door — leaving them both behind. 

“What — what just happened?“ 

Jiyong didn’t know how to feel right now; should he feel bad for making Seunghyun jump and run away like that? Or should he feel proud about what had happened? Was this a good sign? — Seunghyun had always needed space when thinking things through, even when he had been a kid — so maybe this was the first step to getting better. 

It still worried him though — had he gone too far? The ugly feeling in his stomach only got worse; had he pushed too far? He started to overthink everything again, every move, every look, every grown, every glance. Throughout the whole evening he had noticed Seunghyun looking at his collarbones and chest, had seen the way he had glanced at his ass when he got up to get drinks in the mirror at the side of the bar — they had all been the same as the look he had given him when he played with the straw. Those were all clear signs that he wanted him — but he still felt bad about pushing him like that. 

He needed to come up with a different solution to pull Seunghyun out of this mess; something without violating his privacy like that. 

He finally got up from the couch. 

“To be honest I am not sure — maybe you should go after him? We can set up another meeting anytime, don‘t worry.“ 

Jiyong didn’t wait for an answer from Daesung and darted out of the lounge as well — he just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from the world forever.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, originally I wanted to wait until Sunday to post the next chapter, but since I probably wouldn't be able to post until god knows when on Sunday I decided to post today haha (plus, after Seunghyun spammed a new song today and posted that shirtless turtle selfie how could I not?
> 
> Hope you liked this one as well, leave a comment if you did!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three of (probably) five! I wanted to keep this one short, but oh well we all know that I am not really good at keeping it short anymore. Thank you all for leaving such sweet and encouraging comments, they srsly make my day!!

But the bad feelings didn’t go away — they subdued a bit when Daesung called him and let him know that Seunghyun was going to continue to work with him and had started working on the paintings and everything; just that he had been a little bit weird during the last couple of days and that was better than nothing. 

He was swamped with work now that the collection was going to get realized by his team — he had to be in the office basically 24/7, checking if everything worked out just like he had imagined it to work out, or if he needed to change the whole design once more. 

Bajowoo was with him most of the time, working on their collaboration on the side and Youngbae and Chaerin came over more often than not, too — even Soohyuk was trying to be the best of help.

But there was always that nagging voice at the back of his head that screamed ‘_Seunghyun_‘ and after two weeks of sleeping on his couch in the office and nearly going insane with guilt he decided to pay Seunghyun a visit. He bribed Daesung into telling him where his studio was, telling him that he would make sure that he got a paycheck at the end of all of this and all that and free tickets to Lego World. 

To his surprise the studio was out in the middle of nowhere — it took him almost one and a half hours to get there in his Lamborghini — and actually was his house. 

_Obviously he would work from home_, Jiyong thought as he stopped in front of the entrance door. Seunghyun didn’t like crowded places and had mostly stayed alone during his childhood; Jiyong had been the expectation because he had been running after him like a puppy and eventually Seunghyun had given up on running away. 

Maybe it would work this time around as well? 

His knees felt weak as he knocked on the front door — he cursed at himself for being this weak when it came to Seunghyun. No other person could make him this paranoid and freaked out; not even his asshole of a father but that was a complete different story. He knocked again, slowly getting impatient and then the door was finally being yanked open and Seunghyun was scowling at him — paint smeared across his cheek and his hair a complete mess. He was wearing an old hoodie and Jiyong immediately recognized it — his mom had given it to him as a present two weeks before the whole thing had went down the shitter. The hoodie had been way too big for him even back then, but his mom had told him he would grow into it eventually and she had been right. It still was too big, but it suited him perfectly. 

“What are you doing here?“

Jiyong swallowed hard. 

“Won‘t you ask me to come inside?“

He saw the muscles in Seunghyun‘s jaw tighten and the glare deepen — but then he stepped aside and opened the door a little bit more for him to step inside his house. The interior was sleek and modern and there were a few sculptures Jiyong recognized from some of the galleries he had went to. He wanted to turn around, to strike up a conversation, but Seunghyun just walked past him and up the stairs. 

Jiyong didn’t know what else to do so he simply followed him — apparently Seunghyun had turned the whole floor into his atelier. The area was, as far as he could see, only split in two rooms, which left enough space for all his art supplies and paintings — some seemed to be done, some still needed some work. He couldn't help but stare at the paintings that were propped up against the walls — they were so different from the ones he had seen before. 

They were still a bit darker, but there was something absolutely beautiful to them. His fingers reached out towards the painting, hovering only a centimeter above the dried paint as he stared in awe.

“Seunghyun, these are beautiful.“ 

He once again didn’t get an answer. 

All he was greeted with was silence. 

Jiyong turned around, away from the paintings, looking back at where Seunghyun was leaning against a table. He was looking at him from the other side of the room, staring at him with an expression so unreadable to Jiyong that it almost scared him. 

“Come on, Seunghyun — _talk to me_, please?“

“Why, so you can grope me again like last time?“

Jiyong felt sick — he had really overstepped his boundaries, hadn‘t he? He didn’t know what to say, suddenly too disgusted with his own behavior that tears started to from in his eyes. 

“I‘m sorry — I‘m so sorry, okay? I just thought that—“

“You just thought _what_, Jiyong? Huh? That molesting me like that would suddenly make me stop hating gay faggots like you? Do you now see what a fucking plaque you are?“

“Seunghyun, no I—“

“Shut up!“ — his knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the desk, he was breathing hard and Jiyong could see that he was biting his lower lip in frustration and that there were tears in his eyes. 

“I am not like you, don‘t you get that? — and that _thing _we had going on when we were kids? Meant nothing, you hear me? That was a _mistake_. I was just confused and didn’t know hat was right and wrong — you just kissed me out of the blue back then, too. You were the one who made me like this, you are the reason for all of my misery and —“

Jiyong had enough — he broke down. This was too much — after all these years Seunghyun only thought of him as a mistake? His rational part of the brain wasn’t working anymore and all he could think about was the pain throbbing in his chest as he staggered backwards, crashing into another desk where piles of paper were laying and the tears were falling again. He just couldn‘t take it anymore, he should have listened to Soohyuk and SooJoo and everyone else that had warned him about Seunghyun — why had he been so stupid? 

Something inside of him was breaking into a million pieces and he just needed to get _out_. He should have mentally prepared him for this, for Seunghyun insulting him the same way his father had done — he should have known this was not going to be easy; but he hadn’t. He had just showed up on his doorstep and that was it.

His stomach was twisting so painfully now and he felt his chest tighten and then he completely panicked — fight or flight.

He chose flight.

He wasn’t even listening anymore to what Seunghyun was saying, he just darted down the stairs and straight out of the house — his vision was blurry with tears, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even stop when he threw himself into his car and started the engine and drove off — he just needed to get away. He threw the pieces of paper he had clutched on when he had ran away to the side and drove down the street as fast as possible and only slowed down when he was sure that he was far enough away. 

His hands were shaking and he couldn't breathe right — Jiyong stopped the car at the side of the road and staggered out. There was not a single soul around, he was in the middle of nowhere and he was having a fucking panic attack — he sacked down on the dusty ground and tried to get a hold of his breathing, but it wasn’t working; nothing was working — he felt how his own heart being shattered into a million pieces all over again. This was like when he and Seunghyun got separated, but so much _worse_. 

This time it was Seunghyun who had separated them — once and for all. He had never seen so much hate directed at him from the other man, _never_. 

The tears continued to fall for another twenty-three minutes and it took him another twelve until he finally felt strong enough to get up from the ground and dragged him back to his car — he threw the door shut and just sat there for a few moments, trying to collect himself and his thoughts. He didn’t want to think too much about Seunghyun right now, but it was the only thought in his head at that moment — it was so weird — it was as if he knew two versions of Seunghyun; the one from back then who had always made him laugh with shitty jokes and kissed him whenever he was being a brat — and _this_ Seunghyun. 

It had to be a cruel joke. 

Jiyong rubbed his hands over his swollen eyes and sighed deeply. Maybe this was the universe's way of telling him it was time to let go? What a cruel way it was. 

He let his hands fall back down again and his eyes wandered — not looking at anything specific, just staring straight ahead. 

What a shit day. 

He was going to drown in self-pity when he heard this phone chime up and he finally snapped out of his own private pity party. SooJoo was calling him and he knew that that meant — it was time to party; he quickly answered the call and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes spread across his face — he had been right. 

There was this huge party going on tonight and everyone was coming; SooJoo, Soohyuk, Youngbae, Chaerin, Bajowoo and the rest of their typical gang — how could he say no to that? Besides, he could really use a night of mindless binge drinking — he had been working so hard the past few weeks and now this thing with Seunghyun had made everything worse. He had been on edge ever since he had found out the other man was in the US, but now he desperately needed a way of releasing all the stress that had been building up over the past few weeks. 

The call ended and he carelessly threw his phone to the side — somewhere on the passenger seat and then he pressed the pedal to the metal. The sooner he arrived back in Seoul the sooner he could get shit faced and forget about Seunghyun.

* * *

— and what a party it was; he recognized so many people, but couldn‘t remember any of their names. Too many pretty faces since half of the people there were models and some of them were ones that were working for him and signed under his label; Kiko? Nana? He couldn’t remember right now he was too drunk already anyways, but he was having fun. 

The club was packed with people and he was the center of attention — obviously, half these people either worked for him or worshipped him as the god of fashion and he desperately needed that attention, he wanted to feel needed, wanted to feel valid and if he would only get that form of attention from a bunch of strangers so be it. 

SooJoo and Bajowoo were dancing not too far away from him, laughing happily and doing shots — Soohyuk had disappeared with some girl to god knows who and Youngbae had gone home hours ago. The only one who was still sober was poor Jaeho, who was once again babysitting all of them. 

Jiyong felt strong hands on his hips and let the stranger pull him closer — he whirled around and saw a face he had never seen before, but he just shrugged and threw his arms around his neck and danced closer to him, working his hips and pushing his overheated body against his own. He could feel the stranger‘s lips on his neck and he just let it happen — might as well take a stranger home that night, wouldn’t be the first time and probably not the last time; but something inside of him protested. 

The lips on his neck felt wrong and the hands on his hips stiff and the guy seemingly had no idea how to suck or kiss the skin on his neck because it was only uncomfortable pressure and nothing more — he needed to get out. 

He quickly pushed the guy away and disappeared into the crowd again, leaving him behind as fast as possible and searched for the back door. Jaeho was by his side within an moment and a few seconds later he was outside — cool air hitting his sweaty skin and he finally could breathe again. 

Jaeho led him to his car, making him sit down in the passenger seat so he could relax a bit — his car was a thousand times more comfortable than the concrete anyways. 

“Do you want to tell me what is going on with you today?“

Jiyong just shrugged. “Stressed, I guess.“

“Oh, don‘t gimme that crap — if you were stressed you‘d be home with that stranger by now, getting rid of all of this nervous energy; but you hightailed out of there as if someone had burned you — did the guy do anything you didn’t want?“

He felt sick again. 

“No, he didn’t.“

“Then what is it—“

“I did.“

“Huh?“ — Jaeho seemingly didn’t understand what was going on, how could he? Jiyong hadn't told him about the incident in the lounge or what had happened today and then the wall broke and he just couldn't stop talking and he was crying again and Jaeho looked utterly desperate himself and all he could do was hug Jiyong apparently, but it only made things worse.

He must have passed out or something because the next thing he knew was that they were in the garage of his building and Jaeho was trying to gently wake him up. He was disoriented and his head hurt and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. Jiyong was already halfway out of the car when he remembered that he had dropped his phone earlier that day somewhere on the passenger seat side — he mumbled a quick ‘hold on’ and looked back inside his car. 

There was still paper everywhere and he needed a moment to locate his phone — it was buried under crumbled sheets and he had to push it aside before he could reach it, but as he leaned up again, ready to leave, he stopped for a moment. 

Paper? He vaguely remembered holding onto something when he ran out of Seunghyun’s house — he often had the habit of holding onto stuff whenever he was scared; a habit he had ever since he was a little kid and he scoffed at his stupidity. 

Wonderful, now he had sketches of that asshole in his car — way to forget about him. Jiyong leaned down and reached for them, grumbling out profanities as he picked them up, but then he stopped in his tracks and froze. 

He turned them around to finally take a look at what was drawn on those stupid sheets and he swore the ground gave out underneath of him — they were all drawings of him. Very explicit drawings of him; the first one was him with his arms crossed above his head, laying on a bed and biting his lower lip seductively in pure nude — Seunghyun had drawn _everything_, even the god damn moles on his stomach Jiyong hated so much and even his cock that was wonderfully displayed since his legs were spread apart. 

He felt light-headed as he frantically looked at the next picture — it was another drawing of him; this time from behind. He was laying on his stomach, looking over his shoulder while grinning shyly at whoever was holding this paper. His ass was being kneaded by someone’s hand and Jiyong would recognize that scar anywhere — it was Seunghyun’s hand; he had gotten that scar when he was a kid and had tried to get his neighbour’s dog out of the well — it had bitten him out of fear. 

In the next one he was sitting in someone’s lap — most likely Seunghyun’s — and riding him. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed and Seunghyun was holding his face in his hand, caressing it sweetly, while simultaneously pressing his hips down. 

He had to take a moment to fully grasp what was going on, because right now he sure as hell was confused — this meant that Seunghyun wanted him, right? There was no other explanation for this, right?

Jiyong slammed his head against the now closed car door and groaned — why was his life such a mess? Why couldn’t it be easy?

“Uh, Jiyong? Everything alright?”

He lifted his head off the car and walked passed Jaeho. “Yeah, yeah — everything is perfect. Don’t worry.” 

He really, really, _really_ needed a decent amount of sleep right now. 

* * *

“So you are telling me that Vogue fucked up _again_?”

Jiyong was seconds away from throwing the closest object against one of his office walls — today just was the shittiest day of all days. It had started with him oversleeping, which meant no morning chocolate milk for him, nor a breakfast and he had to rush picking an outfit, which ended with him picking the wrong pair of slacks and he _hated_ the pair he was wearing right now; they were way too tight at his crotch and made his ass look way flatter than it actually was and then he missed the board meeting with his staff, which meant that he had to go through a twenty page document by himself during his none existing break and _then _he had to set things straight, after fucking Vogue had fucked up again.

They were supposed to run an exposé about his influence in the fashion world, the shining star, the new commer, but instead of writing about his upcoming exhibition and planned collaboration with Bajowoo, they had written about an exclusive meeting between friends and that the collaboration was not between him and Bajowoo, but between him and Murakami. While the last part wasn’t completely wrong, it still annoyed him to no end — it wasn’t really a collaboration with Murakami in the way the broader public thought it would be and setting things right was always a pain in the ass — and they had written an article about his stay in Madrid; which wasn’t bad — only the picture they had used of him was more than just unflattering in his opinion.

He slowly but surely thought that someone at Vogue was out for blood.

Fucking fashion magazine writers. 

He slammed the phone down on his table after ending the call — could this day get any worse? 

It had been two weeks since his encounter with Seunghyun and nothing had changed — they hadn’t talked since then so there was no way things were going to change, but Jiyong didn’t had the strength to seek out Seunghyun again, not after he had seen his reaction the last time. — even with the drawings, which he had hid in his nightstand and more often than not looked at before he went to sleep. It probably was some kind of twisted masochism that he continued to look at those drawings, because everytime he was torn between feeling flattered and aroused and feeling completely lost and depressed. 

This whole thing was giving him another headache and he just couldn’t deal with that right now. 

He let his face fall against his table and groaned loudly when his telephone started to ring again — he had secretaries for that bullshit, why did they always call him and where the hell was Hayi? 

Jiyong was debating whether or not to fling himself out of the window within the next three seconds when he heard someone enter his office — the sharp sound of stilettos clacking against marble echoed through the spacious room and he just wanted to bury his head even deeper in his table. 

“Is it a bad timing?”

Jiyong had to smile as he recognized the voice — it was Hyeyoun. In all the mess of the past few weeks he had completely forgotten about her, but he was glad to see her right now. She had been so sweet the last time they had spoken and she seemed to be one of the few actually rationally thinking people left on this god forsaken planet. 

He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know — just hanging around.”

Jiyong shot her an amused look. “Okay, fine! I wanted to see you and see how you are holding up these days. It’s been a while since I last saw you and I just really wanted to see the snot-nosed kid from my childhood again.”

He snorted and finally moved away from his desk, indicating her to move into the other room — the couch just was so much more comfortable to sit on than on these stupid office chairs; plus she was holding a big bag of his favorite junk food restaurant and if he read all the signs right she was here to have lunch with him and who was he to deny his (more or less) older sister that? 

They settled down quickly and fell into easy conversation — Jiyong ranted about how shitty his day had been and how much he was in need of a proper vacation and Hyeyoun talked about how much a pain in the ass her now nineteen year old son was. 

They talked and talked for half an hour while shoving greasy burgers into their mouths followed by some more fries and Jiyong felt at ease for the first time in two weeks.

“It’s good to talk to you like this, you know? Back when we all still lived in Korea we didn’t had the chance to talk much, but you are such a nice person.”

Hyeyoun smiled at him, but it turned into a sad smile and she averted her gaze. “You know, I have been thinking a lot about that time and what happened.”

Jiyong was suddenly glad he had already eaten, because this topic always made his stomach hurt. “Oh really?” he tried to stay as nonchalant as possible about it, even when everything inside of him started to scream.

  
Hyeyoun finally looked up again. 

“Yeah, it’s just that — the way our father raised us was terrible. It took me a while to break out of his believes and find my own way. The first half of my life I believed that he was right, that being gay was a sickness that needed to be cured —” Jiyong swallowed hard “—but then that fight happened; Seunghyun had always acted like he didn’t care when our father insulted gay people, but that day he just snapped. Our father had never talked bad about you before that day, but for some reason he started to insult you — saying that there was no way you liked girls, that you were a sissy and that you needed a proper beating and all that shit and Seunghyun just snapped — and the next thing he is screaming ‘_I am gay_’ out of the top of his lungs at our father and all hell broke loose.” 

Jiyong bit his lower lip — he had never known the he had been the trigger for Seunghyun coming out to his father; he only knew that he had done it, but they had never been able to discuss the finer details of everything. 

He covered his eyes with his hands — he didn’t want Hyeyoun to see his tears and he quickly wiped them away.

“Did something happen between you and Seunghyun by the way?”

Oh wonderful, now she was bringing up the one issue he was trying to forget.

“Why you asking?”

“It’s just — he has been really different during the past few weeks, you know? I mean, maybe it has to do with seeing you again? That already freaked him out on so many levels, but he has been acting weirder and weirder the last few weeks so I was wondering if something happened.”

“What do you mean by ‘_freaked ou_t’ — he didn’t react at all when I first met him and then he was nothing but hostile towards me, I wouldn’t really call that _‘freaked out_’.”

“Uhm — you have no idea what happened after you left, have you?”

Jiyong shook his head in irritation — how should he? Seunghyun’s father had made sure that all ties were cut between them and he had even threatened his family by letting someone kill their god damn dog.

“Okay, I think you need to know this —” she turned fully towards him now “— after you left, which I completely understand, because my father went apeshit, things got so much worse. Our father locked Seunghyun up and beat him for the first week straight and after that he sent him off to the Black Hawke division — you know, the really tough one. He was there for a two years and our father had talked to one of his friends who was in charge of the whole place and _told him_. Do you have any idea how they treat you in the military when they know you are gay? It was hell and when he came back he was like another person — he was physically stronger, but more afraid of our father than ever and since then he had done everything our father told him to.”

Jiyong clawed his fingers into the leather seat, trying really hard not to either throw up in his face or have a hysterical breakdown. “They _all knew_?” his voice had lost its strength. 

“Not all of them, but the ones in charge and they made sure to make his life a living hell and they made him go to _‘therapy’ _— only that that wasn’t therapy what they put him through.”

Jiyong could feel his stomach twist and turn and how his throat closed up — all his worst nightmares about what had happened to Seunghyun after that had been true. 

He leaned forward, trying to breath as slow and even as possible without freaking out. 

A calming had was stroking his back now. 

“It got a bit better, I think — in a twisted way — after he came back. Seunghyun didn’t talk back anymore and did everything father said — the only thing he ever asked for was going to art school and eventually moving to the US. Obviously he told him it was about his dream of becoming a sought after painter and all that and father needed a lot of convincing to let his son become _an artist_, but eventually he said yes and let Seunghyun go — but only after he set him up with some woman, as if he wanted to make sure that his son really was interested in them.” 

“So he is with someone now?” It was totally egoistical to ask that after hearing Seunghyun’s story right now, but Jiyong didn’t feel strong enough to ask anything else. He didn’t want to know more about it.

“Not really — you see, she is korean as well and the only reason why her parents let her study law and move to the US was because she told them that she was with Seunghyun. She is asexual and aromantic, but her parents don’t understand what that is and won’t accept it — so they both profit from it. Seunghyun has a woman he can show off whenever our father visits him because a part of him is still afraid of him, like he did a month ago, and Bom was able to get away from her toxic family and cut all ties with them. They are friends and she has been a huge support for him during the past few years and I am glad that Seunghyun has found such a good friend.”

Okay — so Seunghyun wasn’t seeing anyone. It probably was ridiculous to be this relieved, but he was and it was the only thing that helped him stay calm in that moment. He closed his eyes. 

“We had a meeting, Seunghyun, Daesung and I, a few weeks ago. It was maybe a week after we first met at the gallery and I was so desperate to get my Seunghyun back, you know? I had no idea how bad things had actually been for him and now I feel even more like a prick for what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“Tried to seduce him, even got so far to kiss his neck, but then Daesung came back and he bolted. — fuck, I am such a bad person, I should have known!”

He expected a slap in the face or something, but not Hyeyoun starting to laugh. “You did _what_?”

Jiyong groaned and tried to hide his burning face, which only resulted in her laughing even more. 

“_That_ certainly explains the explicit drawings he has been trying to hide.”

He froze, slowly letting his hands fall down from his face. 

“You have _seen_ them?”

Hyeyoun, this traitor, laughed even more. “So you have seen them_ too_?”

Jiyong really wanted to just get away, like many times during the past few weeks ever since he had more or less been reunited with Seunghyun.

“Aww, don’t be like that! Now I at least know what all the mopping had been about during the past few weeks — I think he is going through something right now, give him a few more weeks and I am sure things will get better between the two of you.”

Oh, how desperately Jiyong wanted to believe that, but he just couldn’t. Not after their last encounter — not after the way Seunghyun had looked at him. 

He offered Hyeyoun a sad smile. 

“Yeah, maybe you are right.”

* * *

Hyeyoun had stayed a little bit longer after that, trying to encourage him and telling him all about how Seunghyun had been behaving the past few weeks and that she had eventually gotten him to visit a therapist once a week. 

It gave him a little bit of hope, that Seunghyun might actually come around eventually and maybe, just maybe they could work things out — at this point he didn’t care if they ended up together or not, he just wanted them to be _okay_. 

He just didn’t know how to approach him, didn’t know if it was okay to just hit him up and meet him or if he should wait a few more weeks — maybe the night the exhibition opened? Maybe after that when all the things are done and his stress level wasn’t over nine thousand?

The universe delivered him the answer two or three weeks later; he was out with friends again, but not at a club like most of the times, but at a fancy dinner party with many well known faces both in the art as well in the fashion scene. 

He was about to get himself another glass of wine when he spotted Seunghyun at the other side of the room — he had turned his back to him, but Jiyong would recognize him anywhere. He was wearing a perfectly tailored dark blue suit and he had to gulp when he realized that it is one of his _own creations_. Heat suddenly flared up in his body and he felt dizzy — he turned around and talked to the next person he could find that wanted to strike up a conversation with him. 

He tried so hard to concentrate on the man in front of him, but all he could think about was Seunghyun and that Seunghyun was here tonight and that Seunghyun was wearing one of his suits and that Seunghyun had been going to therapy and that maybe now was the perfect moment to talk to Seunghyun — but he just couldn’t. 

So flirting with some random guy to take of his mind it was. 

— and it actually was working and maybe ten minutes later he was outside on the patio with a cigarette between his lips and the guy was trying to put his moves on him, but Jiyong just politely indulged him. 

The guy — Trevor? — didn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘_not interested_’ and kept on pushing for more. Asking him if he could take him out someday and Jiyong just rolled his eyes. 

Why did he always end up with guys like that. 

“Oh come on, don’t play shy — I have seen how nervous you were talking to me in there; why don’t we just get out of here and have some fun?”

He took another drag from the cigarette. “Sorry, but it was not you who I was nervous about. Don’t flatter yourself too much and like I said — I am not interested.”

Jiyong turned around and was ready to leave when Trevor suddenly gripped his wrist and turned him around, facing him again and Jiyong felt his stomach drop. “Where you think you are going, huh?” 

He quickly ripped his hand out of the other man’s grasp and tried to get away as quick as possible, but the guy was fast and Jiyong suddenly was pressed up against a wall with a tongue down his throat and he felt like puking. He lifted his leg and kneed the guy in the balls, making him topple over and then suddenly the body in front of him was being shoved aside and the next thing he saw was the guy getting smacked in the face. 

Then there was pressure on his wrist again and he got dragged away, through the gates and to the back of the garden where no one else was — he started to fear for his life when he suddenly recognized who was pulling him away from that guy. 

It was Seunghyun.

“Hey — hold on for a moment, _Seunghyun_!” They abruptly stopped and Seunghyun finally turned around — the by now familiar glare on his face. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“Me? You are the one who is dragging me across the garden right now!”

“I had too! That guy was molesting you and—”

“I had everything under control, he is not the first asshole that tries to force himself onto me like that and I know how to defend myself!”

“Oh, right. I remember — you are a real pro when it comes to forcing yourself on people aren’t you, Jiyong?”

— and there it was. Jiyong felt like Seunghyun had just punched him in the gut and he was trying to find the right words, but failed.

“Seunghyun; I—”

“Forget it — obviously you make moves on every guy you meet.” Seunghyun was still scowling at him and Jiyong needed a moment to let those words sink in. — Was Seunghyun—?

“Seunghyun, are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, what should I be jealous about?”

“About another man kissing me?”

Seunghyun scoffed. “Please, that is disgusting.”

“Then why did you draw me like that?”

Jiyong could practically see Seunghyun’s whole body freezing up. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” — Jiyong took a step closer, and Seunghyun one back.

“The other day when I was at your place and you screamed at me—” he took a breath to calm himself down a bit “—when I ran out, I accidentally grabbed a few drawings of yours that had been laying around on that table behind me. I only looked at them later that night and they were all drawings of me, naked. Doing things, really explicit things — we both know that you made those.”

Seunghyun suddenly looked like a deer caught in the headlights and Jiyong felt a little bit bad for him, but he needed answers — the other man was so cold and insulting one moment and the next he found these drawings and Seunghyun behaving like a jealous boyfriend. 

“Seunghyun, it’s okay — it’s just me. I won’t hurt you.”

He carefully took a step closer, his hands raised as if trying to show Seunghyun that he did mean no harm to him, but the other man looked like he was seconds away from a panic attack. 

“Please don’t push me away again.”

He carefully placed one hand on Seunghyun’s biceps, moving slowly not to scare him even further, but he just couldn’t calm down. 

“This is not okay — this is far from okay; I—” and then he choked up on tears and Jiyong just wanted to wrap him into a blanket and tell him that everything was going to be fine and that he didn’t have to be afraid and that no one could ever hurt him again like he had been hurt when his father forced him to join the military —

He was now only a few centimetres away from him; their faces were so close that they were practically breathing each other‘s air and Jiyong felt the other man‘s breath on his lips. — His eyes darted frantically from side to side, as if he was trying to decide what to do, but his brain just wouldn’t work properly.

But his words and gestures weren’t enough in that moment and Seunghyun bolted. 

He pushed Jiyong’s hand away and ran back to the patio and within seconds he was out of Jiyong’s sight — who was still standing there as if in shock, staring after the other man that had been in front of him just a few seconds ago. 

Okay.

That was a process.

He didn’t shout at him like last time. 

Maybe the therapy really was working and he really just needed a bit more time.

* * *

It was now only two more months until the exhibition and Jiyong was starting to question if picking Seunghyun really had been the best choice he could have made — the other man was clearly going through a lot right now and even though Daesung reassured him that he really _was_ working on the paintings and sculptures Jiyong hadn’t really seen any of them yet and it started to worry him.

Huh, another bullet point on the list of things that worried him.

These things had been piling up for the past two months now and only got more and more the closer the exhibition was. — the only positive thing was that at least his collection was being worked on and everything was turning out great. 

At least something in his life wasn’t going down the shitter right now. 

It was a Wednesday and Jiyong and Bajowoo had finished everything for their collaboration the day before and they finally had a day to rest before diving into the next project and they made good use of it — binging _The Boys_ on Amazon Prime in sweats and old t shirts and shoving Pizza in their mouths. 

It just couldn’t get better than that. 

Bajowoo had been like a surrogate mother for him during the past few weeks — always calling to make sure he ate enough, slept enough and whenever Jiyong was having a nervous breakdown Bajowoo would come over to calm him down — even if that meant driving through New York City at 4 am in the morning with a ton of choco pies in a bag. Jiyong paid him back by playing matchmaker for him — setting him up with whatever girl Bajowoo had a crush on until he would finally find someone he was really compatible with. It wasn’t that Bajowoo sucked at relationships it just was that he always fell for the wrong women — he needed someone who wanted to have a domestic life with him, but was also up to partying once a week with him and his friends and finding someone who wanted the white picket fence and the party life was _tricky _to say the least. 

So spending their free days binging tv shows and eating junk food it was.

Besides, it was a good way for Jiyong to whine and sulk about the whole ‘_Seunghyun Situation_’ — not that Bajowoo didn’t had to listen to Jiyong cry about the whole thing a thousand times by now, but you know, if you are a good friend you have to sometimes listen to the same old issue again and again and again. So Bajowoo listened, tried to support him and even tried to give him tips — and Jiyong was forever grateful for that. 

“Did Butcher just seriously use the supe baby and it’s lazer eyes to kill the bad guys?”

They were both staring at the screen where said protagonist had just done said thing.

“I think he really did.”

“Wow.” 

Jiyong was about to break into a full blown discussion about what they had just seen when the front door got opened and slammed shut again and Dami sauntered into the living room and plopped down next to them on the couch, stealing one of Bajowoo’s pizza slices. 

“Hey, that’s mine —!”

“Sucks to be you — what are you guys up to?”

Jiyong just shrugged. “Nothing much — watching The Boys and sobbing about our non existent love life—”

“So still no progress with you and Seunghyun?” 

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Bajowoo roll his own and trying to smother himself with a pillow — okay, _maybe_ he had been talking a lot more about Seunghyun than he had originally planned during the past few days and maybe, just_ maybe_ Bajowoo was really sick of hearing about his guy problem by now. The other man quickly got up from the couch —

  
“I’m gonna go annoy the cat, because there is no way in _hell_ I am going to listen to another one of Jiyong’s sob stories _again_.” Bajowoo ducked in the last moment before the pillow could hit his face and then he was out of the room, apparently looking for Iye.

Jiyong looked back at his sister, who had one of her pitying expressions on her face and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. 

“That bad, huh?”

Jiyong sighed.

“I wouldn’t say _that _bad — there has been some process okay?”  
  


Dami shot him a sceptical look. 

“It’s complicated okay?“

“Want to explain it to me then?“ 

Jiyong uselessly threw his hands up, letting them plop down on the couch again and sighed dramatically. “Long story short; his prick of a father sent him off to the fucking military after we left and they basically _beat _the gay out of him — okay? And Hyeyoun said that after he came back—“

“Wait, Hyeyoun is back, too?“

Jiyong just nodded. “Yeah, and she told me a little bit about what happened to him and I couldn‘t even stomach what she told me; I still feel sick just thinking about it — but she also told me that after seeing me again he started to go to therapy and now I‘m torn between wanting to run away, and seeking him out.“

“Why is that? Why would you want to run away from him?“

“The other day—“ he rubbed the back of his neck “I visited him to see some of the paintings, too see _him _— but he threw a fit and insulted me, telling me all those terrible things about being a dirty faggot and so on and he just, he looked so _fucking angry_. So I ran, but then I found these drawings of me — really explicit ones and it just doesn’t add up — and then the other day I was at that dinner party, you know the one hosted by _Dazed_? And he was there too, but I didn’t really talk to him — not at first, because I was so nervous and I flirted with some guy to keep myself from having a nervous breakdown and the guy turned out to be an ass and shoved his tongue down my throat even though I said _‘no‘ _— and then Seunghyun dragged me away from him.“

“—and?“

Jiyong sighed again. “I tried to get him to talk, to get closer to him and I _think _there was a moment of clarity? But then I could literally see the fear overtake him again and he ran away — it _was _progress, just very little, but after what his sister told me I am already glad about _this_.“

“So, what are you going to do next?“

“I will wait.“

“But, what for exactly?“

“Like I said, Seunghyun is in therapy and his sister told me that he has been moping around a lot, sulking — and you know Seunghyun. He does that when he is working through _something _so I think that he just needs a little bit more time — right now he is like a scared animal and I was so stupid to just jump him like that, trying to seduce him.“

He let his eyes wander through the living room — he could hear Bajowoo baby talking to his cat in the other room and the tv blaring in the distance, but it was all far away. 

“I should have thought things through more before hitting on him — that probably was a shock to the system for him.“ 

Dami chuckled lightly. “Please, he knows you and he knows about all the things you and him have done — I think deep down he really wanted you to do something. Like you said, he is scared and that‘s probably why he is acting so contradicting; one second he insults you, the next he draws you, then he is back to being cold, and then he acts like a jealous boyfriend and then he runs away again.“

His sister was now sitting next to him, brushing his hair out of his face much like their mom always did to the both of them whenever they needed encouragement; it was almost scary how much Dami had become like their mom, too, but Jiyong wasn’t complaining. 

“Maybe you should meet him again — but in another environment; somewhere where he doesn’t feel trapped or threatened and you both can just spent time with each other without thinking too much about what is between you?“

Huh, that could maybe work.

“But how? And where?“

Dami shrugged. “Well, go ask his manager or whoever you are always talking to — maybe he knows something that could be helpful? It is worth a shot.“

Jiyong mulled the thought over in his head; maybe Dami was right. She probably was, she never failed when it came to these types of things and what did he have to lose at this point? 

“Alright, I‘m gonna call him.“

* * *

This time around he didn’t had to bribe him into telling him what he wanted to know — it actually was relatively easy to get Daesung to talk about Seunghyun now for some reason and where he liked to spent his free time if not in the studio. Jiyong shouldn’t have been surprised when it ended up being a small gallery — relatively unknown to most people since it was outside of NYC. 

The gallery itself was nothing special, it looked relatively unspectacular from the outside, but as soon as Jiyong stepped inside it had this really homely, lived in vibe and Jiyong could easily see why Seunghyun liked it so much here that he spent every Sunday here. There were various artists displayed; some Jiyong knew and some he had never heard of and it was arranged in such a charming way that for the first ten minutes he just looked around — taking in every small detail. 

It helped that the weather had cleared up over the past few days and that rays of sunshine were falling through an open window — there was even a small breeze inside the gallery, because the front door remained open all the time and Jiyong had to laugh when he saw a cat walking in and laying down in the middle of the gallery in a spot of sunshine. 

There were only a few people around, but it was early in the morning on a Sunday so he wasn’t surprised by that. He heard the faint murmurs of people passing outside the gallery and the low chattering of the visitors inside the gallery. 

Jiyong continued to look around and stopped in his tracks when he realized that the last room — who turned out to be the biggest one — had a glass front and you could see the backyard of the building; a beautiful garden. It wasn’t one of the perfectly trimmed grass type of garden, but one of those garden‘s you expected at your grandparents house where you came over once a month for their grill party to catch up with family and friends. 

There were flowers growing in the fields and there was also a small spot underneath one of the trees; a makeshift picnic place with a garden swing next to it and Jiyong could see someone working in the garden — but he wanted to look around the room first. 

More artworks decorated the walls, but these were covered with glass or something similar and Jiyong quickly realized why; at the end of the room was something that Jiyong could only describe as a small café — a few round tables with old chairs were placed next to the counter. It was like a small buffet and as Jiyong stepped closer he had to grin; they had so many different things — some Korean, some American and some even Japanese. 

It smelled amazing.

He was so focused on the delicious food, trying to figure out what he should order that he didn’t even realize when someone stepped into the room, closing the glass door behind him again only to stop a few meters away from him.

“Jiyong?“ he swirled around at the sound of his name being called “What are you doing here?“ 

It was Seunghyun — denim shirt that was covered in dirt and an old fashioned straw hat on his head and for a moment Jiyong forgot how to breathe, like he usually did whenever he saw Seunghyun again these days.

“Wait, Jiyong is _here_?“ there was another voice coming from the small room attached to the area behind the counter and suddenly an elderly woman — maybe 50? — came rushing in and Jiyong gasped as he realized that it was Seunghyun‘s mom. She still looked much the same as how he had remembered her — small lady with a sweet face and a loving smile; just a few more gray hair and more wrinkles around her eyes. 

He didn’t know how to react, but within a moment he was being pulled into a tight hug by Seunghyun‘s mom. “My sweet boy, it is so good to see you again — how have you been?“ — she let go of him for a moment “Have you eaten already? Come on, let me fix something for you!“ and as fast as she had emerged she disappeared again and Jiyong could hear pots and pans banging in the other room, what he assumed to be the kitchen or whatever. 

He was stunned into silence and only snapped out of it when he realized that Seunghyun was staring at him. — he swallowed hard. 

“I‘m sorry, I didn’t know that your mom — how come she is here in the US? I mean—“, he bit his tongue. This was not really what he had came for; he had just wanted to spent some time with Seunghyun and not worry about what had happened or how his family was being these days — he just needed to be around Seunghyun and maybe get Seunghyun to relax a bit around him, but seeing how tense Seunghyun was he knew that that was still a long way to go. 

His mother came back from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of ganjang gaejang and he felt his mouth water at the sight — his mother had always been an amazing cook and she simply made _the best _ganjang gaejang. 

“I hope you still like it as much as you did when you were a boy — come, sit down and have a bite!“ — and who was he to say no to her? She looked so happy of having him around, unlike her son, that he just couldn't leave. He quickly walked to the small table where she had placed the dish and thanked her, smiling when she sat down in front of him and simply watched him eat. 

“Come on, Seunghyun — sit down as well and eat something. You have been in the garden all day long!“

“Mom, you know I don‘t like seafood—“

“There is enough food, you will find something now come and sit down!“

Jiyong had to bite his lower lip not to laugh; Seunghyun had more than once thrown a fit whenever there was sea food involved, or intestines. He just hated that, but it had always been Jiyong‘s favourite so his mom always made it for him whenever he came over and it was hilarious to see how the grouchy, tensed man could turn into a whiney, cute kid within seconds just because someone mentioned _seafood_.

Seunghyun plopped down next to him; not looking at him, but Jiyong pretended to be busy with shoving some crab into his mouth anyways so the tension between them wasn’t as bad as he feared it would be.

Silence stretched between them until his mom came back from the kitchen with kimchi, japchae and bulgogi — huh, so Seunghyun hadn‘t changed much food wise either. 

It was probably stupid, but the thought comforted him — reminding him that there was still at least a fragment of the boy he used to know in the other man. 

“So, I heard that the two of you are working together — how is it coming along?“

Jiyong nearly choked on his food. “Oh, well you know. I am busy with organizing everything for the exhibition, talking with sponsors, magazines that want exclusive interviews and all that and also planning the decoration of the venue — while Seunghyun is working on his paintings.“

His mom was looking at him with a fond smile on her lips. 

“It‘s good to see you two together again. It‘s been such a long time and—“ this time it was Seunghyun who nearly choked on a mouthful of noodles and meat; he put the plate down, as well as his chopsticks and got up. 

“Not hungry anymore.“ 

— and he was gone again. 

If he knew something about Seunghyun then it was that this man was as stubborn as a mule so the best thing was to give him time to figure things out — he told himself to be patient, to wait, but it still hurt whenever Seunghyun ran away from him. He had always been the person Seunghyun ran_ to_ when something was bothering him, not the other way around.

His mother watched him leave and Jiyong continued to chew on his food; suddenly not as hungry anymore as he had been a few minutes ago.

“You know, you haven’t changed that much.” 

Jiyong looked up from his food into the kind eyes of Seunghyun’s mother — she had that warm smile on her lips again and Jiyong had to think back to all the times he had scraped his knee or something and she came to the rescue and made him feel better again. Up to this day she wondered how such a sweet, caring woman could marry such a cruel, heartless man like Seunghyun’s father was. 

“You still carry your heart on your sleeve, you know. You always did, even when you were a little kid and first started to fall in love with Seunghyun.” 

His eyes widened and there was pressure on his chest — were they really going to talk about this now? Here? Wasn’t she just as disgusted by gay people as Seunghyun’s father was? 

Jiyong’s eyes nervously scanned the room, making sure that no one else was there. 

“Seunghyun’s father is back in Korea, by the way — you don’t have to worry about him.”

That only answered one of Jiyong’s questions.

“Wait, but — Hyeyoun said that he visits every now and then, but how come you and Hyeyoun are here for so long? I don’t get it, what happened?”

“Do you want the short version, or the long one?”

Jiyong bit his lip. “The long one, please.”

“Alright then, where do I start?” — she looked down on her hands and Jiyong only now realized that she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring anymore. “Hyeyoun told you about how things changed when you moved away — right?” Jiyong nodded. “Okay then, things were incredibly tensed when both of you left — you for America and Seunghyun for the military. It wasn’t my decision to send him there, the only thing I wanted to do in that moment was to protect him. But making him stay at home would have been fatal for him as well — everyone knew what had happened with you and there were so many rumors about Seunghyun as well. People got downright hostile towards us and especially towards Seunghyun and his father thought that the best for him was to join the military — not for his safety, but _you know_ why.”

“Because he said he was gay, right?”

She suddenly looked uncomfortable, but nodded. 

“There was a moment where I just wanted to pack my children and run away — but I was too scared to do so. You of all people know what his father can be like and I didn’t have the resources to do anything — so I stayed put, waited for Seunghyun to come back and tried to protect Hyeyoun and her child in the meantime and support them as best as I could and then Seunghyun finally came back and I thought, just maybe, things would get better now — but they didn’t. Nothing was like it used to be — Seunghyun barely laughed anymore, no comments, no jokes, nothing of that sort and he barely went out. All he did was listen to every command his father gave him and it hurt so much to see — I just wanted my son back.”

  
She stopped for a moment, wiping away a tear. “—I spent a lot of time thinking about all of this, about what had caused it. My husband told me it was all your fault, but that didn't feel right. I grew up believing in only the concept of man and woman, but was it really that wrong for a man and a man to be with one another? Looking back, I realized how sweet you two always were with each other and how carefree and I just couldn’t see anything bad in that. There was no way that _this_ was bad; Seunghyun was always so happy around you, but as soon as they took you away from him and made him believe that everything you two had was wrong he became downright depressed. I only know bits and pieces of what happened in the military, but I knew that this was not something I had ever wanted for my son.”

“Years passed and I watched Seunghyun grow up, but he never smiled — can you imagine?” she sniffled again “—the only times I saw something akin to a smile was when he painted. I don’t think he realized it, but one night — it was maybe a year before he graduated from art school — I was about to go in his room to tell him to get in bed, because it was late and when I walked in he had fallen asleep already. I went into his room and wanted to put the colours aside so they wouldn’t dry out and that’s when I found it — it was an old letter you had given him on his fifteenth birthday. I’m not sure if you remember, but you wrote about your future — the future you and Seunghyun would share. You wrote about how the both of you would run away to the US; you would become a fashion designer and he would become the world’s greatest artist and that you always loved his drawings and that he should never give up on that.”

Jiyong swallowed thickly; he remembered that letter all too well. How often had they actually talked about that fantasy? Too many times and Jiyong had wanted that future for them with his whole heart — he still did, but he just didn’t see it happening. At least he really hadn’t for the past few years, but with everything that had been going on in the past few weeks he wasn’t sure. He didn’t dare to daydream about a possible future for them — that would hurt too much — but there was a small piece of hope that just wouldn’t disappear. 

“Seunghyun never asked for anything for his birthday — never. He finished school a year later when he was almost twenty and that was the first time he asked for something; he practically begged his father for him to be allowed to go to art school and at first his father was against it as you can imagine, but Seunghyun just wouldn’t stop pushing for it and eventually they came to an agreement — Seunghyun would be allowed to go to art school, but only if he would be able to get his own exhibition within the first year. You probably know that that is pretty impossible in Seoul, but Seunghyun worked hard — he spent all his free time with painting and studying and two weeks before their agreement would come to an end he was hosting his own exhibition.”

“That day — that was the first time I saw him happy again after so many years. His father reluctantly agreed and let him attend art school and after some time Seunghyun started to really earn good money with his art and that was when his father suddenly became proud of him. He watched over Seunghyun like a hawk all the time and even though it was Seunghyun’s passion I could see that it was not how he wanted things to go and that was when I knew it was enough — Hyeyoun and her husband had already immigrated to the US, because he had gotten an offer at a big firm and he just couldn’t leave Hyeyoun and their child so one evening I sat Seunghyun down and talked about maybe moving to the US as well; I tried to present it as an opportunity for him to expand his artistic horizon and that he could become more famous and he agreed.”

“I think in that moment we both knew that it was not about the money or the fame — we both wanted to get away from my husband at that point, but Seunghyun had been too afraid of him to go alone; he needed his mother to help him out of there and after almost thirty years of being married to that man I knew I had reached my breaking point.”

“I knew that he wouldn’t leave Korea — he is too much of a patriot for that and too obsessed with the military to even think about moving to the US so I had no illusions about him coming along. Still, we needed to talk to him about it somehow and eventually Seunghyun was the one who told him. He had talked to one of his professors who had made sure that Seunghyun would meet the right people and get good connections — his father threw a fit and it took him weeks to convince him that going to the US would be the best opinion.”

“Eventually he agreed, but under the condition that Seunghyun needed to find someone—”

“Bom..” Jiyong’s mouth was as dry as sandpaper.

“Exactly — so after everything was settled Seunghyun packed his things and on the day he left for the airport I gave my husband the divorce papers and we were off to the US. It took a while until we could apply for a citizenship and everything else; but thanks to Hyeyoun’s husband we didn’t had to go back. The first few months were strange, we were so used to the presence of my husband that we expected him to jump at us whenever we turned around, but it got better eventually. — He signed the divorce papers and I was finally free of him; but Seunghyun was still fighting with his demons.”

“He hadn’t cut ties with his father and years passed where he would visit him and whenever he left again Seunghyun fell back into this depressive hole — Bom always stayed with him during that time and even though it took ages to coax him out of it again, she always managed that. — but he still couldn’t let go of the things his father had preached. Hyeyoun and I, even Bom, had tried to sit him down and make him realize that there was nothing he needed to be ashamed off, that we would even support him if he wanted to find a boyfriend, but he always refused to even listen to us — instead he forced himself to go out with women and it was painful to watch, but after a couple of years we all gave up and just accepted it.”

Jiyong now positively felt sick. He had always thought that he was a tough person, that he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed at people and their coming out stories and everything related, but this was too much. This hurt. Seunghyun’s father had effectively scared him for life. 

“— at least, until he met you again.”

He perked up at that, wiping away a tear. “What?”

“When he came back from that meeting he was a complete mess — he came here, because he needed a moment to calm down and this was the only place his father wouldn’t visit. He spent three days locked away in his guest room upstairs — it took so much convincing to get him out to eat something and I was so confused about what was going on until Hyeyoun mentioned your name and that was the first time I could really hope about things getting better. — Eventually he called Daesung, telling him to agree on the deal and he drove back home and I thought that this was the start of something beautiful, but one and a half weeks later his father finally heard about him accepting the proposal and they had an enormous fight. — it ended with Seunghyun crying like he never had in all those years since you left and his father finally left for Korea.”

“Ever since then he had been acting a little bit out of place to say the least — he is stuck in his head most of the time, grumpy and moping around. He spends all his time with painting and normally we are allowed to see his progress, but not this time — he doesn’t even tell us why, just that he doesn’t want anyone to see them just yet so we backed off and let him be."

She stopped talking for a moment and Jiyong really appreciated it — this was a lot to take in, but it was still nice to finally know _something_.

“It was maybe a two weeks after meeting you that he finally agreed to attending therapy — up until this point he had straight up denied any type of therapy, which I can’t blame him for, but he has been going to ever appointment so far. I think he is finally working through the past ten, fifteen years of his father brainwashing him. He’s not quite there yet, but he is slowly opening up — if he is still important to you, please have patience. I am _sure _he will finally be able to let go of his past.” 

His throat felt like someone was squeezing it shut and his eyes burned — he was speechless. Within maybe ten minutes of talking he had gone from thinking that this woman was only being polite and Seunghyun hating him to crying like a baby at her encouraging words and was back to hoping that it really could work; now more than ever. 

“I still love him if that is what you are asking.”

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand affectionately. “Then I know it will work.”

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

It‘s less than one and a half months before the exhibition now and he still hasn’t seen any of the paintings — he has talked to Daesung more often than not about them, asking when he would be able to see them so he could could arrange them properly at the exhibition (also because he just really wanted to see them, okay), but Daesung always told him the same — to be patient, to wait a little bit more and that Seunghyun would show them to him whenever he, or the paintings, were ready. 

Jiyong almost considered  _ ‘patient‘  _ and  _ ‘waiting‘  _ as a trigger word, because if he had to hear it one more time he would lose it.

“—it's just; he wants them to be perfect, okay? I have never really seen him work this hard one a project so just give it time and be  _ patient _ —“

“Daesung, I  _ swear to god _ , if I can‘t see these goddamn paintings anytime soon I am going to lose it and you  _ do not _ want to witness that,  _ am I clear _ ?“

He heard Daesung swallow soundly at the other end of the line. 

“I get it, really, it‘s just that Seunghyun is the one who doesn’t want that to happen — okay? I don‘t know why he is being like that — normally he doesn’t have a problem with showing anyone his paintings.“

“Then there is only one solution to this problem.“

“—there is?“

“We are gonna sneak into his atelier when he is gone; we know that he always visits his mom on Sunday’s, we would have enough time to sneak in and take a look — you do have a spare key to his house, don‘t you?“

“Uhm, Jiyong — I don‘t think this is a good idea—“

“No, you  _ listen to me _ . If this exhibition isn’t perfect it could ruin my whole career, do you understand? Everything I have worked so hard for could be gone if I fuck up this exhibition and this also includes the paintings I have chosen for it. If they are not to the audiences liking, or don‘t fit the theme, the mood of the whole exhibition then I am screwed!“

There was a long pause at the other end of the line and then a long, drawn-out sigh and Jiyong knew he had him. 

“Alright, alright — but I will only give you the damn key. I don‘t want to be the one to get in trouble if he finds out, okay? Besides, I am in Busan on Sunday and—“

Jiyong grinned. “Sure, no problem — see you then!“

* * *

The following Sunday was the day he was going to see the paintings; the plan was easy — Seunghyun always seemed to leave early in the morning to meet up with his mother at the gallery and spent the rest of his day there so he had enough time to just drive over to his house, take a small look at the paintings and take off again.

It couldn‘t get any easier than that.

It was around 11 am when he arrived at Seunghyun‘s house — it still looked much like he vaguely remembered it. He quickly parked his car, got out and walked up to the front door; already pulling out the front keys.

There was nothing stopping him from seeing these damn paintings, not even Seunghyun. 

With clever fingers he pushed the key in, twisted it around and within another two seconds he stepped into the house — it was completely silent. 

Perfect — so Seunghyun wasn‘t at home. 

Jiyong grinned to himself and let the door fall shut behind him and immediately walked up the stairs to where he remembered the atelier was located at. With quick steps he was up the steps and finally inside the atelier — his heart was pounding harshly in his chest and he had to admit that he felt a little bit out of breath if he thought longer than two seconds about the fact that he was  _ technically  _ breaking into Seunghyun‘s house.

Whatever, there was no way he would ever find out and he just needed to know what these paintings looked like and—

“Jiyong? What are you doing inside my house?“

He froze on the spot, heart beating so fast he feared he was about to have a heart attack as adrenaline shot through his body. His feet remained glued on the spot and he only slowly managed to turn around from where the voice was coming.

There, on the ground, was Seunghyun. — his hair was a complete mess and he had paint smeared across his cheek and he looked like he had just woken up from falling asleep on the ground next to his aisle. Seunghyun yawned soundly and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he sat up.

Shit.

He needed an excuse.

“Uh, oh you know—“ for once he was thankful for learning how to bullshit your way through things and he held up the keys Daesung had given him “—Daesung and I met up the other day and he realized too late that he had forgotten his keys in my office. He was really busy this week, because he is part of the marketing team and has been talking non stop to some of the sponsors so he asked me to drop them off at your place since he is in Busan visiting family or something this weekend. Thought it would be easier to just give them to you since you see him more often than I do.“

He nonchalantly threw them towards Seunghyun, who managed to catch them before they fell onto the ground — he seemed more awake now as he got up and stretched his long limbs and Jiyong hated himself for checking the other man out, but it was his own fault; why did he had to sleep in a long sleeved almost skin tight t-shirt? 

“Alright then, uh, thanks for bringing them. I‘m sure Daesung appreciates it.“ he awkwardly lifted the keys before he dropped them on the closest table. 

“Anything else you need?“ 

Jiyong bit his tongue, stopping himself from saying  _ ‘you‘  _ out loud. 

“No, not really — I just, I was in the area and wanted to drop by to give you the keys.“

“Alright then.“

More awkward silence and Jiyong started to fidget nervously under the gaze of the other man. “Okay, then I better get going — don‘t want to keep you from painting.“ He awkwardly pointed behind him over his shoulder, while staring at the ground — already turning around.

“Do you want some coffee?“ 

Jiyong twirled around again and was just as surprised by the invitation as Seunghyun looked like right now — the other man seemingly hadn't really thought about what he had just blurted out, but there was no way Jiyong would let an opportunity like that go.

“Sure, I‘d love to.“ 

Seunghyun looked like he was going to have a stroke, but eventually recovered and quickly walked past him down the stairs where Jiyong assumed the kitchen was. He slowly followed the other man downstairs and had to stifle a laugh when he saw how much Seunghyun seemed to struggle with the coffee machine — for someone who had started to drink coffee so early he sure seemed to have no idea how to use the machine.

“New coffee machine?“

“No, why?“

“Because you keep on fidgeting and pressing random buttons so I thought you maybe didn’t know how to use this one yet.“

“No, it‘s not —“ Seunghyun looked incredibly flustered in that moment, even clicked his tongue and Jiyong took some pity on him.

“Come on, step aside. I will make us some coffee — I have the same one at home and I can even make me a cup when I am still more asleep than anything else.“

Seunghyun hastily retreated to the other side of the kitchen as Jiyong stepped closer — he quickly filled some water into it, made sure to get all the settings right and pressed start. 

It was a small wonder he managed all that — he could  _ feel  _ Seunghyun‘s eyes on his body and the thought alone made him weak in the knees, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he looked through the cupboards until he finally found two mugs for them and poured the hot liquid into them. When he turned around Seunghyun‘s eyes snapped aside as if he had not been staring at his ass and Jiyong had to grin, pretending to not have seen anything as he placed the two steaming cups of coffee on the counter and sat down on one of the bar stools. 

He took a sip and waited for the other man to sit down next to him — which didn’t happen. Seunghyun took his cup and walked around the counter, putting a safe distance between them and sat down on the opposite side of the counter, right across from Jiyong. 

If he needed a barrier between them to be able to look at Jiyong, so be it, at least he was finally looking at him. — though his gaze made Jiyong feel all tingly and nervous and he couldn’t help but fidget in his seat. He hated how much of an effect Seunghyun had on him while the other man remained as cold as ice — the only reaction he had gotten so far was catching him staring at his ass, but that was it.

“So, how are the paintings coming along? Daesung told me you‘ve been working really hard on them? Is there maybe a chance that I will see them before the exhibition?“ He really needed to think of something else than Seunghyun staring at his ass. 

“They are coming along — yes, but you can‘t see them. Not yet.“ Seunghyun leaned back and placed the mug on the counter as if he wanted to underline what he had just said.

“Why?“

“Because.“ 

Jiyong felt a muscle twitch at the corner of his eye — how old was he, five? He leaned back and took another sip of his coffee; this was ridiculous. He was peace fucking minusone — no one dared to talk to him like that, he should just snap at him and make him show him the paintings.

“Well, just that I am still your  _ employer _ and I have a right to see these paintings.”   
  


“—not before they’re done.”

Jiyong clicked his tongue. “Fine, be like that.” 

He got up from his seat and walked around the kitchen island — Seunghyun suddenly got really stiff and didn’t move a muscle as the younger one walked back to where he had placed his bag and jacket — packing everything up and getting ready to leave.

“You are leaving already?”

“I have better things to do than talk to a five year old, thank you very much.”

“Did you just call me a five year old?”

— was this really their first proper conversation that was not directly work related since fifteen years? Really? Jiyong felt anger and heat bubble up in his chest as he scowled at the older man. “Yes — I did, what about it? I hired you so you would paint these paintings for me and for my exhibition and now I am not allowed to see them? How do I know that you are not going to draw something that could ruin my whole career — you said it yourself ‘ _ I don’t work with faggots like you _ ’ isn’t that what you said? So how, pray tell, should I trust you in not wanting to  _ ruin  _ my reputation, huh?”

Seunghyun was scowling at him now, too — they were like two pissed off animals, ready to pounce, to bite, to scratch — but Jiyong didn’t give a fuck anymore. He had reached his limit — for weeks he had tried to be patient, but all he had gotten was empty encouragements from family and friends and Seunghyun insulting him. He was done.

Seunghyun was ready to fire back, but Jiyong wouldn’t have any of that; “—No,  _ shut your damn mouth _ . The last time I was here you screamed at me, insulted me and do you have any idea how fucking much that  _ hurt  _ me? Are you really that far up your father’s ass that you just forgot about all the years we spent together? You were my first  _ everything _ ; my first best friend, my first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first fuck, my first heartbreak — and even after all these fucking years I pinned after you! I missed you everyday and it  _ hurt _ so much — the longing, the loneliness that no one else could chase away and then suddenly you are back and you are treating me like this? As if I never meant anything to you? Fuck you, Seunghyun, fu—”

He was so angry that he had tears in his eyes, his fists burying themselves in Seunghyun’s shirt as he screamed his heart out and then there were lips pressed against his own and he was being shoved back against the fridge — Seunghyun’s bigger form pressing him easily against the cool material and he just melted. He let go of his shirt and buried his hands in the other man’s messy hair, his tongue slid between lips and teeth biting and pulling on lips and then Seunghyun pressed his thigh between his legs, spread them just enough so he could press up against Jiyong’s cock and he couldn’t hold back the surprised moan that slid past his lips. 

Seunghyun’s hands were on his hips, pinning him effectively against the fridge as he dived into his lips again and again — they were breathing hard, panting, breathing each other’s air and Jiyong could feel himself getting dizzy, but that didn’t stop him from kissing the other man. — he started to move his hips, pressing down and swiveling them, effectively riding Seunghyun’s thigh and pressed his own knee against the other man’s growing erection. 

They were so close, bodies pressed against one another and Jiyong knew that if they continued this he would definitely come in his pants like a goddamn teenager, but it just felt so fucking  _ good _ that he didn't want to stop. 

— and then Seunghyun pulled away, only enough for him to direct his kisses to his neck and this time Jiyong’s knees really buckled. He felt the slight hint of teeth on his skin, the way his tongue rolled over his overheated skin, the way he kissed and sucked along his neck — Jiyong couldn’t bite back his moans anymore. 

His hands clung to shoulders, trying to hold onto Seunghyun a bit tighter so he wouldn’t fall when his knees stopped working, but then the other man simply hosted one of his legs over his own hip, holding him up while he pinned him with his hips against the fridge and they were kissing again — Jiyong could feel Seunghyun moving his hips against his own, how his dick was getting so hard he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling and he wanted more,  _ needed  _ more.

— But then somewhere in the distance Jiyong’s phone went off and Seunghyun froze and Jiyong knew that was it — within the blink of an eye Seunghyun let go of him and stumbled backwards until he crashed against the dinner table at the other end of the room. His hair was even more of a mess than before, he was panting hard, lips bitten red and swollen and his eyes filled with panic and confusion. 

The phone stopped ringing. 

“Seunghyun, I—!”

“Get out.”

Seunghyun’s breath was getting shallower with each passing second and Jiyong could swore there were tears forming in his eyes and he saw the light tremble in his hands. 

“Seunghyun, please let me help you—”

“Get out! I don’t want you here, you are always messing shit up — don’t you think you have done enough already? My life is a fucking mess because of you; get out you fucking fag!”

Jiyong was across the room so fast the older man had no chance to react at all when he smacked him across the face and Seunghyun froze; Jiyong was shaking with anger and the tears were falling so fast he was almost unable to speak at all.

“You—” he punctured every word “—don’t get to talk to me  _ like that _ , you fucking  _ fag _ .”

Jiyong had never in his life used one of these ridiculous homophobic slurs himself, but enough was enough — Seunghyun was insulting him for his sexuality when  _ he  _ was the one who first properly kissed him? Jacked him off? Sucked him off? Fucked him? Shit, throwing these insults back at Seunghyun’s head wasn’t what he had wanted — not at all, but he was acting out of affect right now and not thinking straight.

He didn’t wait to see what Seunghyun’s reaction was — he simply grabbed his stuff and ran to his car and driving off. 

His whole body was shaking with rage as he drove home, radio turned up so loud he couldn’t hear his own thoughts anymore.

* * *

It was two weeks later that his body finally gave up and he collapsed at work — little to no sleep for the past two weeks since his fallout with Seunghyun; the only fluids he had drank were mostly alcoholic and he had smoked more cigarettes in the last two weeks than the last two months  _ combined _ . 

He even went to work when he first felt the symptoms of a nasty cold and fever running through his system, making him feel even shittier than he already did, but he still went to work and pushed himself harder — just so he wouldn't think of that asshole. 

He was fucking done. 

One second Jiyong was walking between mannequins, a measuring tape between his lips and a notepad squeezed under his arm and then small black dots started to appear in front of his inner eye and the last thing he registered was Hayi screaming his name and then everything just went completely black. 

When he woke up again he was disoriented and confused and his head felt as if it was filled with cotton and throbbed painfully. It took him awhile to realize that he was at home, an IV attached to his hand and Iye sleeping peacefully next to his head. He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t let him — he was too weak and everything hurt anyways so he just gave up. 

His throat was fucking dry and even looking straight ahead hurt and he couldn’t breathe properly through his nose either — being sick sucked; especially because now he was glued to his bed, with nothing to occupy himself with and within seconds his mind started to wander back to Seunghyun. — As if the whole situation wasn’t shitty enough already. 

Tears started to swell up and he tried to blink them away, but it didn’t work — for the past two weeks he had bottled up his emotions and released them through working hard and drinking himself to sleep every night, only to get up a few hours later to get back to work. 

Hayi, Chaerin and Bajowoo had more than once tried to get him to sleep or to eat a proper meal, but that’s how he worked through heartbreaks — he threw himself into work and forgot a world outside of it even existed; just that this was  _ Seunghyun _ and nothing was strong enough to wipe the other man away from his memory — he was like a goddamn parasite that had contermined his brain and the most fucked up part was that he still  _ wanted him _ like no one else. 

After everything he had said, after everything he had done, he still wanted him and he still hoped for their happily ever after. 

He was still crying when Dami silently opened his door and sat down on his bed, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and stroking his face. 

It was just a small gesture, but it was enough to make Jiyong crumble and he let go; he whaled, and cried, and sobbed his heart out while Dami held him, rocking him back and forth, but nothing calmed him down.

— eventually his body lost all of its strength again and he collapsed back into bed. 

* * *

Jiyong spent the next week in bed and it was hell — he was so used to being active every day that he couldn’t really enjoy his time off, especially with Seunghyun on his mind 24/7. He tried so hard to not think about the other man, but the harder he tried the worse it got and it just didn’t stop. 

— every little thing reminded him of Seunghyun;  _ everything _ . 

The paintings on his walls?  _ Seunghyun _ .

His goddamn coffee machine?  _ Seunghyun _ .

The documentary about the factory where they made his shitty phone?  _ — also Seunghyun,  _ because that damn factory looked exactly like the damn storage hall they had always played in when they were kids. 

He couldn’t even watch a damn cooking show, because Jiyong‘s mind would automatically switch to ‘ _ this is one of Seunghyun‘s favorite dishes _ ‘ and then he‘d feel like shit again.

At least his health drastically improved since his whole family was taking care of him — Dami and his mom cooked dinner for him every evening and would make him breakfast, too. His dad checked in on him every morning, airing out his stuffy room and bringing him fresh fruits and vitamin drinks; they tasted like crap, but his father always smiled happily when Jiyong drank one of those and they did seem to help so he gulped it down every morning for a week straight. 

His mother had literally forced him to take a few more days off; she had told him that either he would take those days off or she would burn his favorite Chanel coat and make sure to embarrass him in front of everyone at the next board meeting and Jiyong knew that she wasn’t kidding. — So he stayed at home on Monday, too.

Much like the rest of the days he slept in and only got up to take a shower and eat some breakfast — his dad had confiscated his phone, telling him that it was best for his health if he didn’t had it while he was away from work and as much as his neurotic, perfectionism ridin ass told him that it was terrible, he sort of agreed after the first two days. He knew that Hayi and Chaerin could handle everything that was going on at the label perfectly well on their own and that they would probably scream at him if he so much as dared to step one foot into the office before Tuesday. 

He finally managed to get his parents to leave him alone, too — Jiyong had understood their concern when he had been sick, but after the third day it was a bit tiring to always hear the bell ring and being lectured for not looking after himself more. He loved his parents and his sister, but he was a grown man and he knew how to take care of himself.

Sort of.

Whatever — he was finally healthy again and was as relaxed as he hadn't been in a very long time. He hated to admit it, but he really had needed a break.

His last day at home was slowly coming to an end — Dami had left hours ago and now he was finally alone. He plopped down on the spacious couch in his living room and turned on the tv, skipping through the programs and not really paying attention. He just wanted to mindlessly watch  _ something _ , didn’t matter what as long as he could just sit there and do nothing for the night.

He was debating whether or not the order some take out — maybe some pizza again? Thai? — when the doorbell rang and Jiyong sighed. He just wanted to have one day to himself, was that really too much to ask?

Iye had jumped off his chest to hide somewhere as soon as the bell had chimed up and when it rang a second time he unwillingly got up from his comfortable couch and dragged himself towards the door. 

— it rang again and Jiyong just rolled his eyes. His sister was always so damn impatient it was such a pain in the ass; what did she have a spare key to his apartment for when she  _ never _ used it? “Alright, alright — I’m coming! Jesus, woman — when will you finally learn how to use that damn spare key I gave you.”

He yanked the door open, ready to scold his sister but was greeted with a face he didn’t expect at all. 

“Seunghyun, what—?” the other man was completely soaked; when had it started to rain? And his body was shaking and he looked like he had been crying his eyes out and he was  _ still  _ crying — shit, what the hell was going on? 

He quickly reached forward, to get Seunghyun inside the flat, to get him into dry clothes and to just take care of him — and he went willingly. He stumbled forward, almost falling to his knees and colliding with Jiyong’s chest — his strong arms curling around his waist as he started to sob. It sounded almost as if he was trying to say something, but Jiyong just couldn’t understand a single word that was leaving his lips. 

With much effort he managed to close the front door and pull Seunghyun up — he threw on arm around his shoulder, getting a better hold on him and dragged him forward, but easier said than done. Seunghyun was still clinging to him, hands never letting go of his shirt and his movements were uncoordinated. — it took Jiyong a while until he had finally sat him down on the couch in the living room; it was closer than his bedroom and Seunghyun didn’t look like he could really walk right now. 

He quickly shut off the tv and then he was back to Seunghyun — his whole body was shaking from the intensity of his sobs and Jiyong didn’t know what to do so he simply held him close to his chest, brushing his fingers through the wet strands of his hair, untangling them carefully. 

“Seunghyun,  _ talk to me _ . What‘s going on? Why are you crying?“

But Seunghyun just buried his face in the crook of Jiyong‘s neck and Jiyong let him; he was still crying to much for him to even talk so all he could do was hold him. He carefully pushed himself back to lay flat on the couch and Seunghyun followed suit. His strong arms wrapped around Jiyong‘s waist and he could feel his shuddering breath against his neck and the way he pressed his whole body against his side. 

His heart was beating so fast he just knew that Seunghyun had to feel it where his chin was propped up on his chest — he continued to play with his hair, playing with the short strands at the back of his neck while he hummed one of their old songs. — it was a song by  _ Shinhwa _ , but he could not recall the name of the song by any means. He only remembered the chorus melody and that was it, but it calmed Seunghyun down. 

Seunghyun snuggled even closer against Jiyong‘s neck and Jiyong let it happen; he wrapped his arms a bit tighter around his body as well, not wanting to let go — soaking up every single second, because truth to be told he wasn’t sure if there would ever be another moment like this. 

He didn’t know how much time passed, but it didn’t matter — he just held onto Seunghyun, breathing in his scent that made him feel light-headed and sent shivers down his spine. How long had it been since he had been able to hold this man close like that? How many nights had he dreamed about this exact moment — to be holding Seunghyun in his arms again?

Jiyong closed his eyes and turned a little bit more towards Seunghyun, who had finally stopped crying — he was staring straight ahead and Jiyong could see how red and swollen his eyes were.

He wanted to ask again, to coax something out of Seunghyun, but the other man beat him to it.

“Don‘t hate me — please.“ Tears formed in his eyes again as he nervously looked up to Jiyong, before his gaze flickered down to his chest again and Jiyong felt his heart break at that sight.

“I could never hate you, Seunghyun.“ 

All of the tension suddenly bled out of his body and he pressed his face back against his throat; Jiyong could feel his hot tears on his skin and the way his breath hitched when he pulled him into another hug, pressing him a tad closer to his neck. 

He still wanted answers, but Seunghyun’s body suddenly felt heavier than before and within a few seconds his breathing calmed down, too — he had fallen asleep. Jiyong didn’t have the heart to wake him up so he simply reached over to small table next to the couch where the only burning lamp in the room was located at and switched it off. 

The darkness was comforting and Jiyong felt himself relax as well — he slipped one hand down to Seunghyun’s chest, carefully pressing it to where his heart was located and smiled softly when he could feel his heartbeat.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against Seunghyun‘s forehead.

“— I still love you.“

Jiyong fell asleep in the matter of a few minutes.

* * *

It was probably only a few hours later when he woke up again — it was still dark outside and even Iye was nowhere to be found so it had to be way too early in the morning to be awake, but something had woken him up.

His vision was a bit blurry from just waking up and since the apartment wasn’t illuminated at all he could barely see — his eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness and only then did he realize that he was alone. Jiyong carefully sat up from the couch and looked around, trying to see if Seunghyun was still there, not moving a muscle as he tried to concentrate on someone making noises in the flat, but he couldn’t hear anything.

At least in the beginning — he had felt his stomach twisting already, thinking that Seunghyun had left already, but then he heard it; soft sobs and shallow breathing.

Someone was crying.

He didn’t think twice, but got up and made a beeline for wherever the noises were coming from — he needed a second to locate the soft cries, but within a minute he stepped into his own bedroom and located Seunghyun on his bed.

The other man was sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned towards Jiyong, face in his hands. Jiyong didn‘t need to see his face for something to break inside his chest; hearing him cry like this was enough to make him feel as if someone stabbed him into his heart. 

Street Lamps were still shining brightly outside, casting enough light inside the room — normally Jiyong hated it, since he always had trouble sleeping because of it, but right now he was grateful for it. He carefully walked around his bed until he was standing right in front of Seunghyun — the other man was still not looking at him, but his sobs had stopped abruptly and Jiyong could see that he was biting his lips, trying so hard to hold every sob, every cry inside and if possible Jiyong‘s heart broke even more. 

He carefully kneeled down — if it had been a different situation this might have been the perfect opportunity to seduce Seunghyun, with him kneeling in front of him like that, but now was definitely not the time for that. Jiyong could see the tension in the other man‘s body and the way he crumbled as he tried to get closer. 

Jiyong carefully placed his hands on the other man‘s knees, trying not to scare him. “Hey, Seunghyun — what‘s wrong? Why are you crying?“ his voice was soft and careful.

“Isn‘t that obvious?“

Jiyong bit his lip, biting back tears that threatened to spill.

“Not to me, please — talk to me Seunghyun, I want to know what‘s going on, I want to  _ help  _ you. It breaks my heart seeing you like that and not knowing what is going on inside your head. If there is something I can do  _ please  _ tell me.“

Seunghyun was still breathing shallowly, but at least he had raised his head and was looking at Jiyong now. His hair was a mess and for a second Jiyong had to think back to all the times Seunghyun had slept over at his place, curled up in his arms with his face buried in his chest. — it was probably why he felt bold enough to reach out for Seunghyun, to carefully place his hand on his wet cheek and brush away the tears.

There was a subtle shift between them now; something changed from Seunghyun completely losing it, to calming down as soon as Jiyong laid his hand on his cheek; he closed his eyes again and placed his own hand on Jiyong’s, pressing it a tad harder against his own face and leaving a small kiss on his wrist. 

It was such a small and subtle gesture, but it still was enough for Jiyong to choke on tears — Seunghyun had always been a gentle soul and seeing a glimpse of it was soothing to say the least. 

When Seunghyun opened his eyes again it was like he was seeing him for the first time again in years — the same softness in his eyes, the loving gaze, everything. There was no trace of hostility there and Jiyong felt the besotted smile tug on his lips and he knew he probably looked like an idiot, gazing at Seunghyun like that, but honestly? This was maybe the first time since forever since they had such an open moment between them — smiling like that was only human and he wanted to enjoy every single moment of it.

He was so caught up in the moment that he barely registered as Seunghyun leaned down — it happened so fast; one moment Seunghyun was still looking at him from a safe distance, and the next he felt soft lips on his own. His heart stopped for a moment or two and he gasped when he felt Seunghyun deepen the kiss; his lips were soft, but firm against his own and then there were strong hands on each side of his face, pulling him in and Jiyong couldn't help, but gasp into the kiss. 

His hands were shaking so bad and his heart was beating so fast — he wanted nothing more than to just push this man back on his bed and kiss him and have him in every way possible; but he knew that he couldn’t do that. He remembered last time all too well, which was why he only carefully placed his hands on Seunghyun’s shoulders. 

Their position was a little awkward — Seunghyun sitting on the edge of the bed, with Jiyong kneeling between his legs, craning his neck upwards while Seunghyun leaned down to kiss him — but they made it work. Jiyong didn’t push for more, even though that was the hardest thing to do. Instead, he carefully pulled away and cupped the other man’s face, who had the same irritated look on his face as when they kissed for the last time.

As much as Seunghyun guarded himself to not show emotions, his eyes gave him away — always had, even when they were kids. Jiyong didn’t need him to tell him what was going on, he could see the war raging inside Seunghyun in his eyes. 

Seunghyun’s hands dropped from the tight grip on Jiyong’s waist back onto the bed — gripping the sheets tightly as some of the tension came back to him. He was getting restless again — breathing getting shallow, but not from arousal, but sheer panic and his eyes darted from Jiyong’s eyes, to his lips, to the ground, to Jiyong’s eyes again and back on the floor.

“Hyung, it’s okay — you are save here. I am here.”, he didn’t let go of Seunghyun — his hands were still on his shoulders, trying to massage some of the tension out of him and it seemed to work a little bit. Seunghyun was still tensed and seemed ready to bold, but he stayed put and even lifted his gaze again. 

He wasn’t looking directly into his eyes, but his chest — Jiyong could see how his eyes started to roam his body, how they took in every small detail; his collarbones, his throat, his chest, his lips — and eventually his eyes again. 

This time Seunghyun remained calm — even when Jiyong got up from his kneeling position and pushed him back into the mattress. They scooted up a bit so there was enough space for Jiyong to kneel above him — and what a sight it was.

Jiyong looked down at Seunghyun; his hair was tousled and his lips were bitten-red — the first two buttons of the shirt he was wearing where open and he could see a glimpse of golden skin peeking out underneath of it. — his mouth watered. 

He lowered himself down so he was sitting between Seunghyun’s legs — his hands roaming his body carefully. Jiyong started at his shoulders, brushing over them carefully and down to his chest. He could feel Seunghyun’s pecs and couldn’t help but let his touch linger. The last time he had touched Seunghyun like this had been when they were teenagers — back then Seunghyun had been chubby, unlike today. It was so different from back then, but the way he looked up at Jiyong, hands fisting the material, already panting harshly caused the same reaction as back then. 

Heat was flooding his body and the tingle of arousal hit him hard — he felt how all his blood rushed south and the way he was already swelling in his pants. 

Jiyong didn’t know how far he was allowed to go that night — but then Seunghyun reached for his hands and pushed them to the remaining buttons on his shirt, telling him silently to undress him and who was Jiyong to deny that offer?

With clever fingers he undid the buttons — all his nervousness forgotten as his minds went blank with arousal — and nearly moaned out loud when he was Seunghyun’s exposed chest. He had only seen so much of his body ever since they had reunited all those weeks, months ago, but there was no way he could mentally prepare him for  _ this _ . 

Seunghyun’s chest was buff, his stomach flat and even when lying down Jiyong could see the faint trace of abs — his shoulders were broad and when Seunghyun finally threw aside the shirt Jiyong just wanted to lick every inch of this man’s body.

  
So he did — he darted forward; sucking, nipping and licking at every inch of skin he could reach at the moment — leaving behind red spots from sucking on his skin. 

They melted back against the mattress again — Jiyong’s hands were mapping out Seunghyun’s body, every hollow every curve and Jiyong started to feel light-headed. Jiyong felt someone tug at his own shirt, and within seconds Seunghyun tossed it aside — his own hands immediately reaching out to touch Jiyong was well. 

If it already felt like absolute heaven to touch Seunghyun then he really didn’t know how to describe the feeling of getting touched  _ by him _ . His strong hands roamed over his chest, nipples, the curve of his sides and back to his ass — pulling him forward until Jiyong fell down on him. Their bodies pressed against one another as tightly as possible. 

Jiyong felt the stiffness of Seunghyun’s erected cock on his lower body — he was still between his legs — and then he moved forward, brushing their erections against one another and this time neither of them concealed their moans and gasps. 

After that everything happened so fast — hands tore on clothes and they started to kiss each other as if they were starved, clinching onto each other and rolling around the bed until they were finally completely naked with Jiyong once again sitting on Seunghyun’s thighs; lube already in hand as he reached back to prepare himself.

It was easier said than done, because with every tug and nip and suck of Seunghyun’s lips on his nipples another wave of pleasure rolled through him and he cursed silently as he felt Seunghyun smirk against his skin, whenever his dick twitched simultaneously with his nipples getting sucked. 

When he was finally done with prep he tugged Seunghyun’s head back with a firm grip on his hair at the back of his head — the other man hissed, but it ended in a moan and now it was Jiyong’s turn to grin. 

“You like that?”

Seunghyun couldn't answer — his eyes hooded and cheeks flushed red — and instead nodded and Jiyong dived in for another kiss. Drinking him up and rolling his hips, causing them to break the kiss for a moment and gasp at the added friction.

Jiyong blindly reached for the condoms and tore open the small packaged — he quickly pulled out the condom and rolled it down over Seunghyun’s dick and as soon as it was done and ready Jiyong kissed Seunghyun again and pushed him back, making him lay down flat on his back as he positioned himself above his aching cock. 

Seunghyun had went down willingly and it made Jiyong’s skin tingle; Seunghyun was so pliant and so needy and the way he was eating him up with his gaze alone made Jiyong feel breathless. He reached back and finally sank down on his cock, carefully lowering himself until he was completely seated. 

It was a tight stretch — it had been a while since Jiyong had had sex the last time and even longer since he bottomed and his toys only stretched him that much. But they made it work; Seunghyun’s hands immediately found a home on Jiyong’s hips as soon as he was fully inside, holding him in place — and then Jiyong started to move. 

He didn't bother with starting slow; he was too impatient and horny for that — instead, he placed his hands on Seunghyun‘s chest for better leverage and started to roll his hips, finding a quick rhythm that made his toes curl in pleasure. 

Everything was hot and hazy; his intakes of breath quickly evolved into pants and gasps of pleasure as he angled himself just right. With every roll of his hips he could feel Seunghyun‘s cock push in and out of him — how the tip brushed against his prostate, making him groan out loud each time, how amazing it felt to rub himself against Seunghyun‘s stomach and even the burn in his thighs felt amazing — and the view was even better.

Seunghyun was staring up at him in awe — mouth open as he moaned with every roll of Jiyong‘s hips, his chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and gaze burning him up. 

The sounds they made were obscene — Jiyong started to move faster, lifting himself up just a bit more only to push himself down again; their overheated skin slapping against each other, their joined moans, the way Seunghyun cursed every now and then only to grab his hips and bringing Jiyong down harder and faster. 

Jiyong felt himself getting close already and he tried to hold back; he didn‘t want this to end this soon, but Seunghyun was seriously making it impossible to hold back. Especially when he started to snap his hips upwards with every fluid move of Jiyong and he felt himself crumble. Holding himself up was getting impossible and he fell forward onto his elbows, their faces so close now they breathed the same air and normally Jiyong would just bury his head in his partner‘s neck and look away, but he couldn‘t. 

The way Seunghyun was looking at him now was intoxicating and it felt more intimate than anything Jiyong had ever experienced in his life. The only thing that came close to  _ this  _ was their first time. — Their eyes locked and Seunghyun snapped his hips up and the angel was just perfect and Jiyong got reduced to a mewling and moaning mess and then they went frantic.

Jiyong pressed himself closer against Seunghyun, meeting his thrusts and making them both moan out loudly — his thighs were shaking so bad by now he could barely hold himself in position, even with Seunghyun‘s strong hands on his hips; all he could do was take what Seunghyun had to offer and he gladly did. 

The prickling sensation of pleasure coiled deep inside of him and then Seunghyun was kissing him again — so intense and full of emotions that it made his head spin and with the next thrust Jiyong felt himself come in thick robes, covering both of them in cum. His whole lower body was spasm, quivering and shaking while Seunghyun fucked him through his orgasm — he could feel his own hard cock twitch between them and as soon as his orgasm faded out, overstimulation shook him to his core. 

His body was jolting with every thrust and this time he did bury his head in the crook of Seunghyun’s neck; biting him as he mewled and whined loudly. His fingers clawing at his chest while he begged Seunghyun — for what he wasn’t sure, the only thing he knew was that he was moaning ‘ _ please, please, please _ ‘ all over again and then — finally — he felt Seunghyun going rigid, tensing up and fucking up into him a few more times before groaning out his name and then they both collapsed into the sheets.

Jiyong felt completely wrecked — his thighs were still shaking and he was breathing hard and he felt light-headed and weak and exhausting hit him hard. He could barely hold his eyes open as he rolled down onto the mattress with Seunghyun pulling his body close against his chest.

It wasn‘t even five seconds later that Jiyong fell asleep again.

* * *

He more often than not dreamed about Seunghyun these days — sometimes it was a memory, sometimes a fragment of his imagination, something he had day dreamed about so often ever since they got separated and he never knew how to feel about these dreams. 

Jiyong was always happy in those dreams, laughing and smiling at something Seunghyun did, kissed him whenever he was being his cute, dorky self and ran away laughing when Seunghyun tried to tickle him.

— but as soon as he woke up, he had always felt like crying his eyes out. 

That night, or morning, he had another one of those dreams, but it was with the grown-up Seunghyun; the one he had been trying to reach for the past months. They were sitting somewhere — a garden? And Seunghyun was sitting there with him on a picnic blanket and he was reading to him; he couldn’t properly read the title of the book and the everything Seunghyun was telling him merged together to something inaudible — but it was Seunghyun who was reading to him so he didn’t mind. 

Jiyong cuddled up against Seunghyun‘s chest in his dream, letting himself float away as he imagined the plot of the book, but then Seunghyun suddenly stopped reading to him and Jiyong grew irritated — he looked up to him and had to smile when he realized Seunghyun was already staring at him with a warm smile on his lips.

He wanted to lean up to him and kiss him, but instead of leaning down the warmth disappeared and Seunghyun started to get up — the smile never leaving his lips; especially not when he carefully combed through Jiyong‘s hair.

“Thank you, Jiyong.“

“For what?“ — But Seunghyun didn’t answer, he just smiled at him again and looked at him as if Jiyong had created the whole damn world; he smiled at him and finally leaned down — pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead and Jiyong could feel himself blush at that gesture. 

Seunghyun stood up and looked at him for a long moment, before he turned around and walked away. 

— and that was when Jiyong woke up.

His sight was a bit blurry, too much sleep in his eyes, but he quickly noticed that no one was sleeping next to him anymore and he felt numb. He squeezed his eyes shut, opening and closing them again a couple of times until he finally was able to look around the room. There was a sound near the entrance door and he tiredly blinked towards where the sound was coming from and he could see the outlines of Seunghyun, walking down the corridor as quietly as he could, before he disappeared through the front door; closing it with a silent ‘click‘.

Jiyong must have fallen asleep after that, because the next time he woke up again was to his alarm going off in his bedroom and Iye pressing his tiny paws in his face, demanding to be fed. 

He sat up straight; looking through the room, trying to see if Seunghyun maybe still was with him and hasn't left — but after a few seconds Jiyong realized that the only sound in his apartment was the alarm and Iye meowing loudly and he felt himself deflate.

How could Seunghyun ask him not to hate him, cuddle with him and just leave like that? Was this all a cruel joke to him? — Jiyong felt pinpricks of tears in his eyes, but he quickly willed them away.

— No, he wouldn’t cry about this. Something had obviously happened with Seunghyun and he had needed comfort and he chose  _ Jiyong  _ of all people to run to, this had to mean  _ something _ . 

But that wasn’t helping him right now; he stretched his tired limbs and slowly made his way back to his bedroom to shut off the alarm. He felt his heart clenching in his chest, the numbness stretching through his body — as much as he wanted to believe in the fantasy that Seunghyun actually wanted him, it didn’t silence the voice at the back of his head that continued to play with him; telling him that all of this was just a cruel joke Seunghyun was playing on him and that he would use him for whatever reason. Maybe revenge for all the things he had to go through after Jiyong had left? — No, that just wouldn’t happen; Seunghyun wouldn’t do that. 

Right?

He walked back towards the kitchen and made himself his first cup of coffee for the day.

Today was going to be a very long day, he could already tell.

* * *

The last few days before the exhibition passed in such a blur that on the morning of the exhibition Jiyong woke up in a cold sweat — he had worked his ass off to make everything perfect; the interior design of the location, where everything would be located at, how the mannequins should be aligned and where he wanted to have Seunghyun’s paintings.

Which he still hadn‘t seen.

Fuck.

Not at all a reason to panic.

Not at all.

Just that he was in full fledged panic mode, because all the  _ ‘what if‘s‘ _ started to pile up again and he found himself calling Daesung more often than not.

— Are the paintings done?

— Are they what we agreed on?

— Will I like them?

— Will they end my whole career? 

— When are they going to be installed at the venue?

Daesung probably thought he had a couple of screws lose by now, but Jiyong didn’t care about that — since he probably was right; this whole thing with Seunghyun had brought him to the edge of his sanity and it had been stressing him out so much that even his stomach had started to act up. 

He really couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to enjoy a warm meal without rushing out of the room three minutes later, because there was yet another thing he needed to take care of. The last two days before the exhibition he had been at the venue 24/7 basically — taking naps every now and then only to get back to work and to supervise every little step that was being made; he even helped dressing up the mannequins and pinned the clothing accordingly so it would look as perfect as possible. 

Murakami‘s paintings had already been installed then and Jiyong had to smile when he saw it all together for the first time; the way the neon lights along the wall worked so well with the painting itself — it wasn’t too flashy, but prominent enough in the background to draw your attention to the paintings themselves, which were illuminated by yet another set of lamps. Some of the finished sculptures had neon lights in them as well and it reminded Jiyong a little bit of his memories and dreams as a kid.

It was like the fair he had visited with his family and Seunghyun when he was a kid, or the dreams he had where he waded through a flower field with illuminated flowers. — it was probably weird to be this happy about it, but he was.

At least until he remembered the fact that Seunghyun‘s paintings were still missing. 

Thankfully they arrived just in time; a few hours until the exhibition would open and Jiyong needed to get ready for it so he couldn't stay behind and take a look at the paintings, which annoyed him to no end — he finally wanted to see what Seunghyun had been working on so feverishly the past weeks, wanted to see if he maybe would find an answer in them for Seunghyun‘s push and pull behavior or a sign that told him something about the way Seunghyun felt, but then he got dragged away by Hayi and Chaerin, who more or less had to bully him out of the venue so he would go home, take a shower and get into the clothes that had been prepared for him (which, obviously had been designed by him, too). 

  
  


It was four hours before the show when he got his makeup applied and he started to feel really stressed out.

It was two and a half hours before the show as he revised his text for the night and he felt the nausea hit him hard.

It was one and a half hours before the exhibition would start that he changed into his suit of the night and got escorted to the venue and he felt close to fainting. Hayi gave him something for his nerves, but that didn’t help at all. 

This was ridiculous — Jiyong had hosted many fashion show‘s before; too many to count, but this was  _ different _ . 

He stepped out of his car, his driver opening the door for him and he thankfully nodded his head — paparazzi and reporters had already arrived; standing left and right of the carpet in front of the entrance. He smiled brightly, hiding his nerves behind it and posed for a few pictures — so far so good. 

Jaeho was right behind him again, guiding him to some of the reporters he had agreed to be interviewed of and Jiyong could already feel his brain switching off — Interviews like these, the ones on the red carpet, were always terribly dull and they would ask all those things he had been asked a thousand times already.

— What inspired you the most when designing this collection?

— How did you decide on who should be part of this collaboration?

— How long did it take you to finish the designs and who was your greatest support?

Still, it was part of his job and as long as the reporters were nice he didn‘t mind indulging them and answering every stupid, little question. Even if it was Vogue. 

Jiyong stopped right in front of some of the reporters, the ever present smile still lingering on his lips as he took off his sunglasses. “Good evening everyone, let‘s get started shall we?“

He even recognized one of the reporters — she had been with Vogue even before he had started his label and was known to ask rather intimate question and was always looking for the next big scandal; so much about high quality. He bit the inside of his lips, hoping that she wasn’t out for blood now.

“Good evening, G Dragon — it‘s such a lovely evening, perfect for your exhibition, are you very nervous about tonight?“

He smiled politely. “It is — the weather seems well so far and yes, I am feeling a bit nervous, but it is more anticipation than anything else. This isn‘t the first time I am hosting a show or an exhibition so that is taking a little bit pressure off me.“

“That is correct, but still — this one is a little bit different from the ones you have hosted throughout the past couple of years, isn‘t? For one, you only collaborated with close friends and for another you picked themes for the exhibition — I read about evolving, past and future and so much more; care to explain a little bit more in depth what this is about?“

Jiyong inwardly rolled his eyes — he had prepared a speech and everything where he talked about this and he had set up posters where he explained even more what this exhibition was about inside the venue, but if the reporter wanted to hear it from him personally, then he would do it. 

“Well — I think we all know how the show business works; you see a pretty face and that‘s it, right? Especially in the fashion industry, most people see us — be it designers, models, you name it — merely as the person we are portraying us to be. We all have this stage persona — in my case  _ peaceminusone  _ — but that is not all there is of me. I am thirty two now and I want to show everyone that I am more than how the media likes to portray, that I am more than the gay eccentric fashion designer that likes to party. I want to show everyone what it was like growing up in an environment that wasn‘t, and still isn‘t, very supportive of the LGBT+ community and I want to show everyone that life is a journey; at some point in your life you think you have it all figured out, but then you start to realize a few things and everything is back to zero again and that there is nothing bad about that. Life is a process and I want to show this process of mine to everyone who is interested.“ 

The reporters were all either scribbling things down, recording what he was saying with microphones or straight up filming him with a camera. It was always a bit hard to see their faces when a camera light was being directed at you, but after all these years he adjusted quickly. 

The same reporter spoke up again. “So the LGBT+ community is part of this exhibition, right? You have never shied away from your sexuality, almost wore it like an armor and had this whole  _ ‘this is me and you better get used to it‘ _ attitude — many people, especially younger ones, look up to you for this and have you as their role model —“

Jiyong had to smile at that — how he had wished as a kid to have someone to look up to like that, but there wasn‘t anyone who was out and proud in Korea at that time.

“— so it all came to us as a shock when we heard that T.O.P would be part of your exhibition. You said you only wanted to work with close friends on this exhibition and people who shared your opinion, but now you work with someone who is known for his homophobic behavior, someone who you never have met before; how come?“

He bit his tongue — he had hoped that this issue wouldn’t come up, especially because he didn’t really know what to say. Jiyong had wanted to talk to Seunghyun about this one before the exhibition, but with everything that had happened during the past few weeks that simply hadn‘t been possible. He had also talked to Daesung about it — had asked him how he should handle this in case the question ever came up and after thinking it through Daesung had told him to just tell them what he had told him at The Red Carpet. That they had been friends when growing up, but evolved into different directions and that he hoped that things would get better between them — so that was what he told the reporters.

“It‘s a long story, but — T.O.P and I used to grow up in the same neighborhood when we were kids. Back then he still was a chubby kid and we were best friends — we were basically the inseparable duo and we did everything together, played all day, played pranks on our sisters; stuff kids do when they are young and stupid.“ he held his breath for a moment “—but then things changed. People ended up realizing that I was not  _ normal _ , not  _ straight _ and my family was forced to move so we came to the US. Since his father is anything but supportive of the LGBT+ community there was no way we could stay in contact and it was only a few months ago that we met again.“

He could see the clear surprise on their faces — some of them were mumbling to themselves, some of them just gaping at him. T.O.P being friends with someone who was openly queer? 

“So you hadn't seen him in all those years?“

“That‘s correct.“

“What was the first meeting like? I just can‘t imagine that that went smoothly.“

“It was a bit tensed, yeah—“ he didn’t want to go in depth about the whole issue with his father and how Seunghyun had insulted him, so he stuck to a lighter version. “—I think he didn’t expect me to be behind peaceminusone. Not everyone knows what the designer behind my label looks like — what  _ I  _ look like, and he looked quite shocked when he recognized me — I tried to act professional and at first he wasn’t interested in working with me, but I convinced him and he called back a few days later. We met up after the Madrid Fashion Week to discuss everything and have been working together since then.“

“So there weren’t any issues with you being queer and him being a homophobe, is that what you are saying? That you managed to turn T.O.P from being a homophobe to being an ally?“

Jiyong sighed. “I wouldn’t go that far — we have mainly talked about business and all that, but I think there was some process.“ like them making out in Seunghyun‘s kitchen “I can‘t say more I am afraid, since it is not my place to judge and talk about someone else‘s opinions like that — I think you will have to ask that himself.“

He could see how the reporter wanted to ask more and he was forever grateful when Jaeho told him they needed to move on — he quickly smiled at the reporters, thanked them and then he finally was inside the venue; the loud chattering and calls from the reporter muffling instantly as the doors closed behind him and he got escorted to one of the makeshift backstage rooms. 

The catwalk was up and ready already and all of the models were already getting their hair and make-up done, assistants ran around, making sure that all the outfits were ready and that everything was perfect and Jiyong needed to remind himself that his team could handle it — that he didn’t had to be there to watch over them like a hawk so he settled back in his room, drinking some coffee as he scanned through the guest list. 

There would be more well known names than he had anticipated and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not — exposure was always good, and if famous celebrities and stars of the art and fashion scene liked his works then it was even better, but there was still that nervous coil inside his stomach, twisting uncomfortably. 

He got up from the couch — he needed to move around a bit or he would go insane.

Within seconds he was out of the room again, leaving his coffee behind as he walked through the venue — Murakami‘s and KAWS‘ artworks were all open to see, displayed just like he had remembered them; at least something that would work out.

He was about to walk further into the venue — he had seen only a glimpse of Seunghyun‘s paintings and he really needed to see them and if not now, then when? — but then someone tabbed his shoulder and he turned around, expecting to see Chaerin, Hayi or anyone else he worked with, but he got greeted by a face he didn’t recognize. 

Asian features, round cute face, long hair and slim build — she was wearing a headset and apparently was part of the tech team. 

“I‘m sorry to bother you, Sir — but could we maybe talk for a moment?“

“Sure, is something wrong?“ 

But she didn’t answer and instead pushed him back inside the VIP room he had just stepped out of — he was about to protest when she closed the door behind her and she smiled at him. 

“I‘m sorry for the ambush and all that — but I wanted to introduce myself to you and thank you; my name is Park Bom and you probably have heard my name a few times when talking to Hyeyoun or their mom, right?“

Jiyong didn’t know how to describe the emotions he felt right now — was it jealousy? A part of him knew that there was no need to feel that way; Hyeyoun had told him that Bom wasn’t interested in Seunghyun in the slightest and that they only acted like a couple for their own benefit — but it still  _ burned _ . Especially because she had been there for him during bad times; times when Jiyong wasn’t there for him and he had needed him the most. 

“Uhm, yes — they mentioned your name a couple of times and.. I‘m sorry, I hope this isn’t rude to ask, but why thank me? I mean, from all the stories I have heard, you are the one who was there for Seunghyun all the time and picked him up again when he was at his lowest, who knows him best, and—“ he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to let his own jealousy get the better of him, especially since Bom hadn't done anything wrong. She had only been Seunghyun‘s friend who had wanted to get away from her toxic family to study law and—. 

“Wait, why are you here tonight? They told me you study law or something?“

Bom smiled and giggled a bit. “Oh, that. I only told my parents that I would study law so they would let me go — Instead I studied Mechatronics and did a few extra courses and ended up specializing in light effects, too. They would have never let me go, if I told them what I really wanted to do — to live on my own without a husband and study a job that they thought was only for men.“

Jiyong had to smile a bit at that — smart girl.

“—anyways, I don’t want to keep you any longer; I just wanted to say thank you. I have known Seunghyun for years now and during the past couple of months he—“

“—he has been working through a lot, yeah yeah.“ Jiyong sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was sweet of her to say thank you, but by now it felt like they were all mocking him; they continually told him that they had seen Seunghyun work through something, but in reality — what had changed? He didn’t know.

“—look, you obviously mean well, but I don‘t think I have changed him that much. You guys all tell me that he has been working through something, but all I know is that he is ignoring me and more often than not screaming at me and insulting me. I wish I could really see a change from the first time I met him, but right now I just don’t seen it.“

Bom was quiet for a moment.

“I know Seunghyun really sucks at talking about his feelings — he is better at showing them and I think that you will get a pleasant surprise tonight.“

Jiyong‘s pulse escalated. What did that mean?

“What?“

“Just wait and see, I gotta go now — my team needs me!“

“Hey, Bom — wait!“ but she was already out of the door, leaving behind a very anxious and confused Jiyong. Shit, what the hell had the other man planned? Or done? Was it the paintings?

He frantically ran to the door, yanking it open, ready to run to see the paintings — but then he got grabbed by Hayi and Chaerin and they dragged him to the backstage area of the catwalk. — the show was about to begin.

“Chaerin, wait. I need to s—!“

“Sit your ass down and wait for the show to start! We have been looking for you for the past ten minutes and now do your goddamn job!“

She had a fierce grip on his biceps, but the smile on her lips remained sweet and gentle and even her voice was nothing but upbeat and lovely and Jiyong never feared for his own life more than in that moment. — So he forced a smile as she walked him on the catwalk, mic in hand and pressed a short kiss to his cheeks, before she left him alone up there. 

He was nearly blinded by the stage light, but as soon as he had the mic in hand he snapped into his stage person, the professional peaceminusone.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman. I am thrilled to see that so many of you have decide to attend tonight’s exhibition —“ and then everything happened on autopilot. He said his text, made a few jokes that even were funny, and then swiftly thanked everyone again for coming and hoping that they would enjoy the show. 

Two minutes on stage and he stepped down again — the lights were dimmed and he moved quickly to his seat; right side of the stage, first row, along with Chaerin, Hayi, Bajowoo, Youngbae — and Seunghyun. 

Shit.

There was only one empty seat left, right next to Seunghyun. — Just wonderful, but it was not like he could just throw a temper tantrum now or make someone move to another seat. 

He tried to ignore his rapidly beating heart and sat down next to Seunghyun, pointedly staring straight ahead as the show started. 

But ignoring the man next to him was hard, especially when he felt everyone‘s eyes on him. 

Chaerin was looking at him with an mischievous glint in her eyes and all of a sudden Bom‘s words came flooding back — did she know about the surprise as well? Did everyone know, but him? 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Seunghyun lean closer to him — he remained completely still as Seunghyun moved closer, his lips close to his ear and body invading Jiyong‘s personal space and he had to bite his lip and concentrate not to think about what had happened the last time they had been this close. 

“After the show is done, can I go on stage after you? I need to say something before the exhibition starts.“ his voice was low and hushed and if it would have been any other circumstance Jiyong would have melted at his deep voice, but right now definitely was the wrong moment for that. Besides, he doubted Seunghyun would appreciate it much if he happened to  _ molest  _ him again. 

He bit his lip again. “What for?“

Seunghyun leaned back again, but didn’t look away — still looking at Jiyong with that heavy and intense gaze, but Jiyong didn’t want to give in like that immediately.

He watched the show for a moment or two, trying to concentrate on what was happening right in front of him, but all too quickly he felt his resolve crumble and he looked over at Seunghyun — who was still looking at him.

Right at that moment he had the same look on his face when they had been younger and Seunghyun had asked him if they could get another cone of ice cream — like a cute puppy waiting for permission and Jiyong knew that he would Seunghyun let do anything. No matter how many years passed he had still the same effect on him than back then. 

He sighed.

“Do whatever you want, but I swear if you try to ruin my reputation —“ he didn’t had to finish the sentence, his glare was probably enough to let the other man know that he would not be played with like that. Though he wasn’t sure how much of an effect it had on him.

Fuck it, if things with Seunghyun went down the shitter, might as well his whole career and what was what his PR team always preached? Bad news is good news; if Seunghyun ended up causing a scene they would probably know how to handle it anyways, but still. The possibility that Seunghyun might be up to no good was still there and the possibility alone was what made Jiyong feel so hurt and scared.

Seunghyun seemed relieved at what Jiyong had said and for the first time in fifteen plus years he saw an earnest smile on the other man‘s lips — it was soft and warm and Jiyong forgot how to breath and couldn’t help but stare; he wanted to continue to stare at him a little while longer, but then he got pinched in the arm by Chaerin who urged them both to get up. 

It was time to get on stage again. 

  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay another chapter done! Next one is the last one;  
If you all leave comments I might upload it even sooner than planned hehe
> 
> but srsly; hope ya'll like this one! Feedback is always much appreciated and I am so happy to read all your comments even if it is just key-smash haha (ESPECIALLY if it is key-smash that's so cute)


	5. Chapter 5

There were so many things Jiyong had to think about at that moment — he remembered the time when he was a kid and first found his love for fashion, how he had always asked his mother to buy him fashion magazines or watch all those cool shows on the TV with him. He also remembered how his mother had started to take him along whenever she went fabric shopping and how she had showed him how to work with a sewing machine and how she taught him the basics of creating his own patterns and what the differences were between creating patterns for men and women. 

—or how he threw himself into studying fashion even more once he had moved to the US, even while he was still in High School. Jiyong had not done much besides looking up affordable sewing classes and watching tutorials online — he had generally spent a lot of time online, finding as much research material as humanly possible to push himself more and more to become better at designing his own things. 

He remembered the day he applied for Parsons — he had been so nervous the whole time that he barely slept or ate, but the day he got his acceptance letter he was over the moon and his first day was spent in a similar state of ecstasy. 

He remembered the day he opened his own shop with only his creations and how insanely nervous he had been when the first few people stepped through the front door and even more so when he noticed more and more famous people coming to his shop and buying his fashion and how everything then happened so fast and he had not only one, but several shops across the country and even in Europe, Asia and Africa. 

All that could get ruined by this small moment — okay, maybe not  _ everything _ but a scandal rarely helped your career so whatever was about to happen now made him wanna rip his hair out and scream out of the top of his lungs. 

It almost happened in slow-motion as he watched Seunghyun step on stage and then he was holding the microphone in his hands and started to speak and Jiyong froze, holding his breath as he stared at the other man, desperately waiting to finally hear what the other man wanted to share with them tonight.

“Good evening everyone,” — if he wouldn't have been as starstruck as he was, Jiyong would have felt proud at how easily Seunghyun seemed to be able to speak in front of people now. Back when they had been in school together he had been anything but good at it — too introverted, a blushing, stuttering mess and stumbling over his own words all the time. But now? Jiyong almost didn’t recognize the man.

“— you all are probably wondering why I am here tonight, or how someone like me and my reputation is working together with peaceminusone. I am not blind to the criticism he has gotten thanks to working with me and I feel like I need to address this issue.”

Jiyong felt all color leaving his face, but he tried to maintain a smile nevertheless.

“I’m gonna be honest — when Mr. Kwon approached me to work with him I didn’t know who he was. — I mean, I did know peaceminusone, had been following the designs and everything for sometime, too, but I did not know that the man behind peaceminusone was Kwon Jiyong so when we met up at the gallery to talk business it was a shock to the system to see him again.”

“You see, Jiyong and I grew up together — since we were babies we basically did everything together; we played outside all day long, played pranks on our friends and onto each other and annoyed our older sisters. We used to stay over at each other’s house all the time and our families used to be close, too. Our mom’s used to cook together on some occasions whenever my father was away — attending some military related business.”

Seunghyun switched hands and Jiyong was so much closer to losing it.

“He was always there for me during hard times, and during good times as well and he was my best friend until I we were only about ten or eleven years old — because that was the time we started to date.” 

Jiyong could clearly hear a slight tremble in Seunghyun’s voice and he felt as if the rug underneath his feet was being pulled — was this really happening? Was Seunghyun really talking about their romantic past? He heard the gasps coming from the audience and saw how flashlights of cameras went off, hushed voices and fingers pointing at him and the man on stage. But his eyes remained glued on Seunghyun.

“I still remember it clearly; we were at the back of my house, curled up in blankets and holding hands underneath and I was asking Jiyong if what we were doing was wrong since I had overheard my father more than once talk badly about homosexuality. I didn’t know the exact term for it back then, because you simply don’t talk about sexualities besides heterosexuality in Korea, but I  _ knew  _ that I wasn’t interested in girls. All that I ever wanted was to be around Jiyong and spend all my pocket money on buying him his favorite food or whatever else he wanted.”

“So I asked him, and it was the first time someone told me that having these feelings for a man, a boy back then, was okay. He told me that his mother had told him that love could never be wrong and that I shouldn’t listen to what my father was telling me all the time, so I didn’t. We kissed, just a small peck on the lips, and from then on we dated for about five years. We dreamed about a future together; about him becoming a famous designer and me becoming a painter and that we would move to the US and finally be free, but it didn’t turn out like that.”

“One day, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. My father started to talk badly about Jiyong, about him being a faggot and how he didn’t want me to spent too much time with him and that I should rather concentrate on school and girls. I could take a lot, I could ignore him talking badly about other people, I  _ had  _ to ignore it, but I just couldn't ignore it if it was Jiyong he was talking badly about so I practically screamed in his face  _ ‘I am gay’ _ and he beat me to pulp for it.”

Jiyong felt his throat close up at the memory and his eyes started to sting — this memory was probably the most painful. He could feel Chaerin looking at him, but he stared straight ahead, not wanting to miss a thing.

“— I ran to Jiyong that night, because he was the only one I could always go to. He was my safe place, my home and my heaven. He was the one who helped to clean my wounds, who picked me up and put me together again and this day was the most painful as well the most beautiful in my life. But things escalated even more the next day — we stayed home from school and my father put two and two together and he showed up at Jiyong’s house and threatened him and his family to use his position in the military to make their life a living hell and not even the next day they found their dog dead on the front porch, because my father had told everyone about Jiyong’s sexuality.”

“I felt utterly disgusted by what my father was doing and wanted nothing more but to run away with Jiyong, to keep him save, but that opportunity got ripped from me. My father locked me up at our home for a week and beat me everyday — I still have a few scars from that and when I was finally allowed outside again, Jiyong and his family were gone.”

“It was an odd sensation; I was relieved and completely devastated at the same time. I was happy to hear that he and his family managed to move this quickly to another country — that Jiyong was  _ safe _ , because that was all I ever wanted for him. To be safe and happy and pursue his dream as a fashion designer, but the possibility to never see Jiyong again tore me apart. ”

“Over the next two years my father sent me off to the military, forcing me to complete my mandatory service early and he had no qualms about telling one of his close friends about how I had been  _ misguided  _ and was in need of  _ adjustment _ .”

“They beat me, insulted me, did things to me that could probably be dubbed as white torture or physical abuse and when I got sent home again they had successfully broken me and I did everything my father wanted me to do; I studied for school, found a girlfriend I didn’t love and never acted out. Years passed like that and I really started to believe everything he told me, how I had to hate these people, how they didn’t deserve any rights at all — it was the easier way out.”

“The only thing that he didn’t take from me was my dream to become a painter; it took me until this year when I met Jiyong again, to realize that the real reason behind me painting and pushing my father to accept me being a painter was him. Not that I don’t love to paint and that art is not important — it always has been and always will be a part of me and without it I would only feel like half a man, but by subconsciousness knew what it wanted and it pushed me until I finally got what I wanted; I became an established painter and managed to move to the US, only to meet Jiyong again.”

Seunghyun’s eyes were glistening with tears ever since he had started to speak about their parting, about his father, but the previous sadness in his eyes slowly started to shift to something warmer; Jiyong would almost say it was happiness he could see. 

  
“When I saw him again I still had the mindset my father had beaten into me and I didn’t react good at all — I told him that I didn’t work with faggots like him and just wanted to run away, but he was stubborn and still offered and I spend the next few days locked away in my room crying my eyes out and generally being a huge mess, but eventually accepted the request.”

“We met up several times and it tore me apart again and again and again. It was especially bad because at the time we started to meet up to talk about this exhibition my father was visiting from Korea and I was scared shitlessly. — Thirty-one years old and still scared of my own father and what he would do to me, can you believe that? But once he was gone I finally was able to see things a bit clearer. I started to go to weekly appointments with a therapist twice a week who helped me work through these two sides in me; the one side that still believed homosexuality was a sin and the side in me that still loved Jiyong.”

Tears were falling now and it felt as if his heart was going to give out at any given moment.

“In the past few weeks, months even, I worked through all of this and worked on the paintings for this exhibition like a maniac — I wanted them to be perfect, I wanted them to show Jiyong who I was — who I am. What had happened to me and how much meeting him changed my life and how much it changed me.”

Seunghyun turned towards him now away from the crowd and Jiyong felt himself gasp for air through his nose. He tried so hard to stay professional, but he could already tell that his makeup was ruined and that he wouldn’t be able to hold back the gross sobbing.

“Jiyong, I know I have been terrible to you on more than one occasion during the past few months and I probably can’t put in words for how much I regret hurting you like that when all you wanted to do was to help. I leashed out on you, I took my frustration out on you and I was an major asshole. I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect anything from you. I just hope that I can make up some of the hurt I have caused you when you see my paintings. You know more than anyone else how bad I am at expressing myself through words, so I hope that my paintings will help me getting my message across.”

“You are my first love and my only love — seeing you smile and happy and safe is all that I could have ever hoped for and I just want the very best for you. I am so proud of the man you have become — you still have a heart of gold like you did when you were a kid and the same temper and you are fierce and strong. I mean, this exhibition here just proofs how utterly amazing you are and you deserve all the recognition in the world.”

Seunghyun paused for a moment.

“I love you Jiyong.”

— and with that he took one last look at the crowd, before he left the stage.

  
  


Jiyong didn’t know how to react, he was practically paralyzed from shock as the words Seunghyun had just said started to slowly sink in. Had he really just come out and declared his love to the world? — and everything else he had said?

He finally snapped back to reality and brushed away the tears; his make up was completely ruined , but the only thought in his head was Seunghyun right now. He got up and frantically started to look around, ignore all the people around him, the nervous buzz of energy as people tried to get close to him, to talk to him, to see his reaction, to know what he had to say about everything — but he simply pushed past all of them.

Jiyong searched every corner backstage for Seunghyun, but couldn’t find him — looked through the crowd but couldn't find him either and then the words in his head finally started to echo.

Seunghyun wanted him to see his paintings. 

His head jerked around as he ran into the other direction to where he knew Seunghyun’s paintings were located at; his heart beating a mile per second as he pushed past the people blocking his way. 

The first thing he saw was a short biography of Seunghyun, but that didn’t hold his attention for very long and he simply moved on to the next thing — it was a text, written in cursive letters right next to his biography. Apparently a text Seunghyun had written himself.

_ There are so many things I am trying to say with this, but I will try to keep it as simple as possible and let the paintings speak for themself. One of the topics for tonight is to evolve, to work on yourself and become a hopefully better person than you were before  _ —  _ I was a mess when Jiyong first approached me to work with him, but he helped me so much with just being himself and pushed me to finally see what has been wrong all this time. I owe him more than anything I could possibly ever repay him. _

His knees felt weak again and he finally staggered forward to the paintings and it was equally a punch in the gut as it was — he couldn’t describe it.

The very first thing he noticed was how the color scheme shifted throughout the series — at the beginning everything was vibrant; warm colors and everything felt wholesome. As he took a step closer he quickly realized why; these paintings were snippets from their childhood. They had the same abstract style as the paintings he had seen before, but they felt so much more like Seunghyun in a way. They had more life in them, more emotion and didn’t feel as repressed as the older ones.

Jiyong had to smile when he recognized the scenes — the first one was them as kids running down a small path to the river where they had always played at and the next one was them curled up under the blankets, shortly before they kissed. He had to smile even more when he saw the title of the painting.

_ ‘Love Started with You’ _

He couldn’t help but stare and marvel at the fine strokes Seunghyun had used for their faces and how the surroundings changed into a familiar roughness, creating the image of an hectic outta world and a peaceful inner world — a world where the two of them lived whenever they were close like that. 

Jiyong moved on to the next set of paintings and they showed them growing up together — it was a set of three and it was them at the beginning of middle school, at the end of it and then another one where they were already older; close to the age of when they had to leave each other.

And then the color changed.

While the previous ones were dominated of red colors these started to have purple as their main color — the first one was Seunghyun telling his father he was gay and it looking at it felt more similar to what he had felt when he had seen Seunghyun’s previous paintings. He couldn’t bare to look at it very long and moved on to the next.

He felt heat spread through his body as he realized what was going on in the next painting. It was more abstract and wild than any of the paintings he had seen before and if you didn’t know their whole story you would probably not recognize what was happening here,  _ but he did _ .

It was their first time having sex.

Jiyong groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to hide his red cheeks and the secretly pleased smile that spread across his face.

Of course he would paint something like that — he had seen the sketches afterall and suddenly he was grateful he choose this abstract style for this painting, because as much as he was proud and happy to see these paintings, to see Seunghyun’s creative growth, he did  _ not  _ want the whole world to see his cock. 

Though he maybe would ask Seunghyun to paint them like that, too and hang it above his bed. 

A snort escaped him and he walked up to the next one.

The colors changed again — there was only a small amount purple, all of the red had left already and shades of blue dominated the painting.    
  
— He took a closer look and realized that wasn’t true completely — there was some red left; it was the blood trickling down from the side of his head as Seunghyun’s father beat him. He could see the shocked faces on the people around him and the frantic look on Seunghyun’s face as he desperately tried to get closer. But the face that was drawn with the most detail was his own — was that the face Seunghyun had been seeing when thinking back to this day? Was it edged into his memory, much like Seunghyun’s bloody face had been into Jiyong’s all these years now?

It made his stomach twist and turn just thinking about it — the thought of Seunghyun being in pain, or really remembering this pain made him feel all sorts of terrible. In an abstract way he had been aware of the pain Seunghyun had gone through, that he must have suffered, too, but the way he had behaved the past few months had overshadowed it and made him forget about it. Even when people told him about the things Seunghyun had suffered through it had been hard to fully grasp. 

If he thought the previous paintings would have been tough, the next were even worse. Jiyong wasn’t in any of those paintings anymore — they really showed him what had happened after his father had knocked him out and had dragged Seunghyun away. 

Again, it was so different to hear these things, than to physically be able to  _ see _ them. When he had thought about what had happened he thought about the worst things he could imagine; but a small part of him still hoped that none of that had actually happened. 

The first one was what he had feared it would be; Seunghyun’s father grabbing him and dragging him across the floor, away from Jiyong and punching him so hard in the face that some of his bruises started to bleed again; or were those new ones? Jiyong couldn’t tell and it didn’t really matter, because either way; seeing this made him breathless and nauseous, yet he couldn’t look away. 

This was Seunghyun’s way of fully telling his story and Jiyong would listen. 

Jiyong couldn’t hear anything right now; the only thing in his head was his pounding heart. 

The next set was a set of four and it was a detailed and graphic representation of what had happened to him in the military; the first painting was his bloody and beaten face as his father seemingly handed him over to one of his military friends. Seunghyun was in the foreground, spirit seemingly broken, as the men in the back talked in hushed voices and threw disgusted glances at the young man in front of them. The background was blurry, but with enough imagination it was easy to see the full picture. 

He had already felt like shit before, but the next paintings made it worse. All three of them showed Seunghyun in humiliating positions; in the first he was kneeling on the ground in nothing but his underwear — it was raining heavily and he had to hold up a bucket that was slowly filling with water over his head, while one of the sergeants was standing behind him with a baton placed right underneath his chin, tilting his head up and forcing Seunghyun to look up — his face beaten and bruised. 

Another one was him carrying heavy boxes and packages, already losing all his strength, in the middle of the night. He had gaping wounds on his back that criss-crossed across it and another look at the background made sense of the scene. Once again a sergeant of some sort was behind him, holding up a whip — threatening to hit him again if he fucked up.

The last one of the set showed you what happened if he fucked up. Broken pieces of wood were on the ground, scattered across the floor with Seunghyun on the ground. There were new wounds again and he was a lot skinnier than before — he looked as if they were downright starving him. The people around him were pointing at him, laughing, as someone had thrown his portion of food for the day in the dirt right in front of him as one of the sergeants lunged forward to kick him. 

Jiyong stumbled backwards, staggering away form the paintings as he tried to calm his breath. He hadn’t even realized that he had started to cry again, but the hot tears were streaming down his cheeks now and his vision got blurry. He needed to calm down, to the point where he could look at these paintings again — this was Seunghyun’s past and he wanted to know all of it, even if it meant it would hurt him, too. 

He blinked away the tears and wiped his nose — turning back to the remaining paintings. 

There were only two of Seunghyun coming home — they were a bit bigger than the other’s though and showed various moments of his life at once. Like his mother and sister crying when he came back, his unmoving face, his friends welcoming him back, but him not laughing, his birthday were he only managed a weak smile for his mother, or when he finally graduated and got into art college. It also showed the talk he had with his mom, the decision that they all would finally immigrate to the US and how he started to sell his first few paintings.

All of them could have been happy moments, but it was clear to see that there was no happiness in his eyes and a smile on his lips that didn’t reach them either. He was almost like a ghost if the person he used to be before the military happened, before his father had happened. 

It took Jiyong until now to realize that Seunghyun had painted by far more paintings that Jiyong had asked him too — they had talked about six, seven. Maybe eight, but Seunghyun had managed to crank out a whole series of paintings within just a few months.    
Jiyong let his eyes wander through the room — if he counted right there were twenty.

So far he had seen twelve — eight more to go. 

The color scheme had switched again; this time more gray tones, mixed with black and white than anything else and they reminded Jiyong so much of the paintings he had seen in the portfolio — they were downright depressing; not that the other ones hadn’t been too, but these hit you differently than the others. Those had been direct and straightforward — the abuse so open that it was clear to see; these ones showed what happened after the abuse.

It showed how badly abuse, be it physical or mental, took its toll on you even when you were free from the abuser. 

They showed Seunghyun breaking down, having panic attacks, even sometimes scratching his skin because he couldn’t handle what his mind was putting him through — they also showed the inner battle that started to rage inside of him once he met Jiyong again. 

It was one of the biggest paintings in the exhibition; the two of them were facing each other — Jiyong smiling at Seunghyun; Seunghyun glaring at Jiyong while behind him monsters and devils thought each other and something inside of him was breaking. 

There were more paintings of him seeing Jiyong on his dreams, of him thinking about the other man, of him painting, of him crying frantically and having breakdowns in the kitchen or in the bathroom or in his atelier. 

— but eventually, he got better. 

The paintings got more color again and whenever he would see Jiyong again the colors got brighter and brighter and Jiyong felt his own heart swell at that sight. It was as if someone was breathing life into Seunghyun again and this someone was Jiyong. 

He was crying again, but this time for a completely different reason; he was Seunghyun’s muse. He really was the reason Seunghyun was able to overcome his shadows and had made the decision to move on from the pain and if that wasn’t the ultimate way of telling him that he loved him then he didn’t know what else could be.

But then he saw the final painting. 

It was almost weird how accurate Seunghyun managed to paint his bedroom given the fact that he had only seen it once before — but everything was how it was supposed to be. The bed, the sheets, the painting above the bed, even Iye. Everything was how it was at his home right now and Seunghyun even managed to draw him in his typical sleeping position; sleeping on his side, hugging a pillow while Iye curled up next to his head — his legs drawn up, hogging all the blankets.

— at least on the first glance. 

Jiyong took a step closer to really look at the painting and he slowly realized the small, but important differences; there were a lot of things that didn’t belong to him in the picture — like the stuffed giraffe sitting on one of the pillows or the second nightstand on the other side of the bed with a phone that wasn’t Jiyong’s. He had to small bashfully when he saw the lube and condoms peek out from under the pillow next to Jiyong — the one his left hand was resting one, the one that had a ring on it’s ring finger and— 

Ring? 

Jiyong gaped.

Did he understand this right? Was that something Seunghyun wanted for them? The ring was on his ring finger — his left hand, meaning this could be an engagement ring, but what if he was reading too much into it? What if this was just another painting and Seunghyun meant the empty side of the bed, with crumpled sheets and no one besides Jiyong, meant that Seunghyun didn’t want to be in his life and the ring was just an ordinary ring? 

He almost didn’t dare to hope. 

His fingers were shaking when he dug out his phone and tapped Seunghyun’s number onto the screen — he cursed to himself when all he was met with was the beeping sound of the line, but no one picking up. Why wasn’t Seunghyun picking up? Did he really mean that this was it for them? That he didn’t want to be with Jiyong?

No, that couldn't be it — what was he missing?

He looked back at the final painting — looked at every corner, at every small detail, but he just couldn't see what he was supposed to see. Or was he supposed to see anything in it in the first place? 

Shit, why couldn’t Seunghyun have just waited for him or at least picked up the phone. 

Jiyong let his eyes wander over the painting one more time. 

The room was drenched in warm colors and the sun was either rising or setting — but from the orange touch and how comforting the scene was Jiyong more had the feeling of it being a moment during the late afternoon; a short nap gone wrong with him being knocked out for several times until the sun actually started to set already, without him noticing. 

— Sunset. That was it, the rooftop. 

Within seconds he was out of the room and darted up the firecase — the stairs were a bit rusty and the walls were decorated with grafitis and cracks in the plaster — and then he was finally in front of the heavy metal door that lead to the rooftop. He faintly remembered Chaerin saying something about a rooftop-bar, but that thought quickly disappeared as he pushed the door open and stepped outside. 

The warm summer air was brushing his cheeks and nose and he audibly gasped as he saw the scenery in front of him unfold. Similar to the color scheme of the painting, everything was shining in warm colors — some things, like the glistering lake in the far-off distance, even gave you the illusion of being gold. His eyes finally zeroed in on his surroundings; the roof was spacious and there were several chairs and comfortable sofas and small tables placed at the far end. Right to the left was the bar the staff had decorated with fairy lights and lampions and Jiyong would have smiled at it’s beaty if he would have known how to breath. 

Seunghyun was there, at the bar, nursing on a glass of wine as he fiddled with the stem and looked at his watch over and over again — Jiyong could even see how his leg bounced; a habit he seemingly hadn’t been able to break ever since he was a kid when he was nervous. 

It made him feel a little bit more at ease, seeing how nervous Seunghyun was because that meant that he felt strongly about what was to happen next. And feeling strongly about something and being nervous meant that he really did love him and that he did want a future with him and— 

Jiyong was getting breathless just thinking about it.

Was now finally their time to be happy with each other?

He took careful steps towards the other man; as much he just wanted to run over to him and hug him and cry and kiss him, he also wanted to remember this moment clearly. 

Seunghyun finally seemed to realize that he wasn’t alone anymore; as soon as he looked back over his shoulder he got up on his feed, nearly knocking over his glass in the process. He seemingly didn’t know what to do with his hands because first he put them in the pockets of his pants, before he quickly brushed through his hair only to play with his own fingers. He opened his mouth several times, but couldn’t say a word. His eyes darted to the ground, back to Jiyong, the ground again and then finally settled on Jiyong again. 

It was painfully endearing how Seunghyun wet his lips and just looked at him like a nervous puppy. 

Jiyong stopped in front of him and couldn’t hold back the huge smile on his lips and he knew he was swooning and he knew he must have looked ridiculous, but when Seunghyun returned the warm smile, with dimples and flushed cheeks and everything, he couldn’t care less. 

“So you saw the paintings, huh?”

Jiyong bit his lip, trying to hold back the giddy feeling bubbling up inside of him.

“I did — I cried.”

Under any different circumstance this would have been a moment where the mood would have been ruined; talking about their painful past and all that, but Jiyong was too preoccupied at what this meant for them and their future to let it ruin their moment. 

“—especially at the last one.”

“Oh really? Why is that?”

Their banter was playful and light and god, the butterflies in his stomach were getting out of control.

“I think you know why.”

“Do I?” — Seunghyun smirked and Jiyong just wanted to grab him and smother him with kisses and then continue to lick every millimeter of skin he could reach with his tongue.

“Don’t play coy.”

“So what is your answer?”

“You didn’t even ask me anything yet, how should I know what to say?”

Seunghyun held his breath for a moment, before he started to laugh basfully and then Jiyong was laughing and giggling, too and a lot of the unspoken tension between them melted away. 

“I think — maybe we are skipping a few steps here? I mean, what I painted was what I want — for us. For our future. If that is what you want as well, I—” Seunghyun stumbled over his words, before he held his breath again for a moment and then sighed. “I just, even after everything that I was taught, I still knew in a way that I wanted you to be a part of my life, my future. This whole thing — I don’t know how to explain it, because I don’t want to say all those things so you pity me and I don’t know, emotionally blackmail you into forgiving me — that is not what I want. I just want to say that, that I still love you. When I saw you again at the gallery I felt like I was about to faint. I saw you again and I felt like the ten year old kid again that first realized how utterly in love I was with you, I felt like the awkward twelve year old that was finally brave enough to kiss you again. I felt like the goofball I was with fourteen when I tried to surprise you with a self-made peach pie, because you said you liked those best, only to realize I was allergic to the skin — and I definitely felt like the bumbling idiot I was when we made love for the first time. All those memories came back to me in an instant.— and I just, do you wanna go on a date?”

“A date, really?”

“Yes — is that not something you want?”

Okay, now Jiyong really felt like melting on the inside, because Seunghyun was being so incredibly cute and sweet and awkward right now — how he stumbled over his words and how his cheeks were flushed and how he was talking about him wanting to have a future with him and how shy he got about asking him out. 

“Seunghyun?”

  
“Yes?”

  
“Can I kiss you?”

“Does that mean you will go on a date with me?”

Jiyong didn’t answer, instead he lunged forward and did what he had wanted to do ever since he came up to this damn roof, ever since Seunghyun came back into his life — he kissed him. His arms wrapped around the slender neck of the other man and pulled him down as he pressed their bodies together and sucked Seunghyun’s lower lip between his teeth, biting down playfully and deepening the kiss some more. He felt strong arms wrap around his waist, before Seunghyun reached upwards and changed their positions a little bit; he reached up to Jiyong’s cheeks, cradling his face oh so carefully between his hands. It made Jiyong’s head spin and heart flutter. He gasped for air through his nose and clawed against the fabric of Seunghyun’s suit. 

He really understood what Seunghyun had meant earlier; he felt like back then when he was ten and had kissed him for the first time — the butterflies in his stomach, the hotness in his cheeks and feeling his knees getting a little bit weak. It was all there — just like back then. 

They carefully let go of each other; both of them grinning like loons as they looked at each other, gasping for air as they softly bumped their foreheads against one another. Jiyong had to close his eyes for a moment, because he felt how tears started to form and he really didn’t want to cry another time tonight, but then he did anyways and he buried his head in the crook of Seunghyun’s neck. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Seunghyun’s voice was low and deep and Jiyong pressed his nose a little bit harder against his neck, before he sighed happily and looked up at him with teary eyes. 

“Yeah. Just insanely happy.”

Seunghyun bumped their noses together; eskimo kisses. 

“Me too.”

Jiyong leaned in closer again, kissing him softly and sweetly; rubbing their lips against one another again and again, sometimes nipping at them and giggling like two people freshly in love and in a way they were. This was new and delicate, but Jiyong knew that whatever this was — whatever this was going to be; this was it. 

“Wanna get out of here, or do you wanna get suffocated by reporters and paparazzi shoving their cameras into your face?” 

Jiyong chuckled. “I think they are going to do this anyways; but for the dramatic effect —”

He didn’t give Seunghyun the chance so much as to say or even think  _ ‘no’ _ , he simply grabbed his hand and ran towards the door he had come from and dragged Seunghyun down the stairs who was giggling like a maniac now. Before they stepped back into the main room of the exhibition though, Jiyong twirled around and pushed Seunghyun up against the stone wall behind them. The other man went willingly, especially when his eyes zeroed in on the wicked smirk that spread across Jiyong’s lips. 

“Want to really make them talk?” 

He could see how Seunghyun’s pupils widened and his gaze turned hungry, like a starved man ready to pounce — he nodded and Jiyong dived into him; kissing him with all he got as he pressed their bodies close again. He felt Seunghyun melt at his touch and Jiyong felt giddy at the thought of having this much power over Seunghyun; he smirked even more when he felt the other man roll his hips forward to add some more friction to their touch. 

Jiyong let his fingers run through Seunghyun’s hair, nails gliding along his scalp before he took a handful of hair and tugged; pulling Seunghyun a little bit closer. The sudden movement cause him to gasp and Jiyong let his left leg slip between Seunghyun’s. He tugged again; pulling away from their kiss and trailed hot kisses down his neck instead — with clever fingers he quickly untucked Seunghyun’s tie and opened the first two buttons of his button-up shirt. Sucking, licking and kissing his way up and down, making sure to leave marks and even bit into the hot skin on his neck, making Seunghyun gasp out a breathy moan. He felt desperate hands clung to his hips and then he was the one pressed against the wall — “It’s only fair to show them you are mine, too.” 

There was nothing he could possibly say, because his brain short circuited as soon as he felt Seunghyun’s soft lips on his neck, sucking with as much force as Jiyong had before and that alone was enough to make him stir in his pants. He could feel how blood was rushing south, how his dick twitched whenever Seunghyun rolled his hips and licked up and down his neck. Another well-aimed suck and a breathy moan slipped past his lips — Seunghyun pulled back. 

His eyes were full of mischief and pure lust and god, if they didn’t get out soon he would simply fuck this man then and there. 

Seunghyun seemed to have a similar thought; he quickly reached for his shirt, buttoning it up a little bit, but not bothering with the tie and then he was the one who grabbed Jiyong’s hand and walked back into the room, filled with people. 

It all happened so fast — one second they were in the main room, people and music loud in his ears, flashlights going off in the distance and someone shouting his name — and then they were in the save space of Seunghyun’s car. The doors fell shut and they took off. 

The exhibition had been a little bit outside of the city so they were closer to Seunghyun’s place than to his own and Jiyong realized that that was where they were going (though, honestly it was really hard to think with a hard-on uncomfortably tucked away in his skin-tight leather pants). 

Jiyong couldn’t take his eyes of the other man who seemingly tried really hard to concentrate on the road in front of him — his eyes would dart over to Jiyong every now and then and Jiyong could see the nervous tick in his hands and how he couldn’t simply hold on to the steering wheel. 

Jiyong bit his lip and grinned at the other man; his hands slipping down to his own pants, adjusting himself a little bit and he knew Seunghyun saw out of the corner of his eyes what he was doing — he wasn’t going to try anything, not when they were driving fast in the middle of the night, but the small intake of breath he could hear from Seunghyun was enough to rile him up even more.

Those were probably the longest ten minutes in his life, but somehow they managed to finally arrive at Seunghyun’s house. They both got out of the car as soon as it was parked and then Seunghyun grabbed him again by his hand and pushed him against the entrance door, kissing him senseless and hooked one of Jiyong’s legs over the crook of his elbow to grind his hips forward, rubbing their swelling dicks against one another and Jiyong had no reason to hold back the moan any longer. — there was no one around and he would be damned if he didn’t let Seunghyun hear how much he was enjoying his touch, how much he he liked it to have his hands on him, to have him rub his hard cock against him. 

The door suddenly fell open behind them and Jiyong nearly lost balance — only for Seunghyun to quickly hold him up by wrapping his arms around his waist and grinning down on him. “Eager are we?”

Jiyong inwardly rolled his eyes at this moron of a man and quickly kicked the door shut behind them. He grabbed him by the loose tie around his neck, wrapping it around his fist once for a better grip, and then tugged him forward as he walked backwards to where he assumed the bedroom was. 

They crashed into several things on their way there — Seunghyun was too eager to touch Jiyong, letting his hands slip between his legs, touching him through the thin material of his pants — and Jiyong had troubles with thinking straight when Seunghyun was kissing him like that and he could feel his erection pressing against his stomach. They stumbled into bed, nearly knocking their heads together and broke out in giggles as they struggled with getting further up the bed. 

Jiyong’s back finally hit the mattress and had Seunghyun kneeling above him within the blink of an eye — his hands found Seunghyun’s belt, undoing it along with the fly of his pants and tugging them down over the swell of his ass, while Seunghyun got rid of his own t-shirt. It was a bit of a struggle to get Seunghyun’s pants undone in this position, but they managed and soon Seunghyun was straddling Jiyong’s lap in just his underwear, pulling at Jiyong’s shirt while grinding down. Lips found lips again, as their fingers tangled in each other’s hair, pulling them closer and drawing moans from their mouths. It maybe should have scared Jiyong how easy it was to play him like a fiddle, drawing him tight and making him squirm, but one rough tug at Seunghyun’s hair or his lips sucking and biting his nipples and the other man was as much of a mess as he was.

He could already feel how addicted he was getting to seeing Seunghyun like that — wild, vulnerable, untamed. His hair a mess, a thin layer of swear on his chest, his nipples glistering slightly from his own saliva and red from him biting and sucking at them; the same going for his lips. Jiyong wanted to completely destroy the other man, to get him just as addicted to his touch as Jiyong was to Seunghyun’s. He tore himself away from Seunghyun’s chest and let himself fall back onto the mattress — he carefully pushed the other man’s thighs apart, making more room between his kneeling legs. Jiyong bit his lower lip hungrily as he saw just how hard Seunghyun was — he could see the hard outlines of his erected cock and how the tip was already leaking with precum. It would be a shame not to taste it.

His hands reached for the elastic band of Seunghyun’s underwear and quickly pulled it down as well — leaving Seunghyun completely naked. Without missing a beat he scooted down the bed with Seunghyun still on his knees above him until he had him kneeling above him with spread legs, knees on each side of his torso. He pulled the pillow behind his head to angle it upwards and make it easier to lick and suck on Seunghyun’s cock — he craned his neck, licking over the tip, preening at the reaction he got from Seunghyun in return. His thighs trembled light as he stared down at Jiyong — the flush on his face so prominent it reached down his neck to his chest. His eyes were wide open and almost fragile and his mouth paged open as he stared at the man between his legs, almost as if not believing this was happening. 

As much Jiyong just wanted them to finally move on to the sex part, he really did want to show Seunghyun all the wicked things he was capable of doing with his tongue. He sucked right underneath the tip of his cock, smirking as he heard an almost desperate moan slip from Seunghyun’s lips — his hands were caressing his thighs, drawing circles into his tensed muscles, never breaking the eye contact. He moved further down — making sure to lick and suck everywhere. His tongue moved up and down his cock and his hands finally took a tight grip around his base — moved up again, finally taking Seunghyun in his mouth. Warm lips closed around the tip and he pressed his tongue into the slit right at the top of Seunghyun’s cock. Jiyong relaxed his throat as much as possible, but the angle was tricky and he hadn’t given anyone a blowjob in quite a while; he tried nevertheless. 

He started slowly; moving his head up and down, taking a little bit more into his mouth with every suck, forcing himself not to gag, while taking Seunghyun’s balls in his hands and caressing them. It was almost hypnotising to watch Seunghyun lose it, to suck him off and see him from this angle. Jiyong could clearly see how the muscles in his stomach tensed and shifted, how he bit his lip and tried to stifle his moans — but Jiyong wouldn’t have none of that. He wanted to hear Seunghyun, to see him let go and to give himself over. 

He sucked a few more times on his cock, making sure to suck hard and let his tongue press against the veins — testing out what he licked best — before he led go of his cock with an obscene noise and Seunghyun had to take a few heavy breathers. He was smiling down at him, his thighs still shaking a little bit. “You have a very talented tongue, you know that?”

“You liked that?”

Seunghyun could only laugh bashfully.

“Then you will like this even more.”

Jiyong spread his knees apart again, making enough room so he could slip under Seunghyun so he was no longer sitting on his chest, but with knees on each side of his head and he was sitting on his face. He heard a ragged gasp coming from the other man and something that faintly sounded like ‘ _ Jiyong, what are you— _ ’, but then he buried his face between Seunghyun’s cheeks and went to work. 

His tongue slithered up and down between his cheeks, caressing his perineum, his balls, sucking them into his mouth, before he reached up to his cheeks again and spread them apart. Seunghyun jumped at the first touch — but quickly pushed down on Jiyong’s tongue. Jiyong tilted his head back a little, so he had more room to move and Seunghyun spread his legs a little bit to help — he even shifted backwards with his upper body and held himself up with his arms placed on the blanket next to Jiyong’s torso as he practically rode his face and Jiyong went to heaven. 

He could feel ever twitch, every spasm, could hear every moan and curse slipping from the other man’s lips. He loved the difference in his voice, too — normally Seunghyun’s voice was rough and deep, but now it was all soft and mellow; even raised in pitch whenever Jiyong did something Seunghyun seemed to especially like. He licked and sucked at his opening a little bit more, before he finally let his tongue slip between his cheeks completely and pushed inside and wiggled around. Seunghyun was pressing down, making it almost hard to breath but honestly there was nothing better than getting suffocated by Seunghyun’s thighs and ass. 

Jiyong moved again, pressing his tongue inside a few more times, moving it in circles and pressing it against the soft walls inside, before he scooted up the bed again again. He moved between Seunghyun’s thighs, letting one hand slip between his cheeks as he once more licked and sucked his dick into his mouth. 

At this point Seunghyun was sobbing with need, whimpering at every touch, every lick and Jiyong wanted nothing more than to see him break. He wiggled his finger around, adding a second one and moved them around until he finally found what he was looking for. Seunghyun's body jolted and he buried on of his hands in Jiyong’s hair, tugging almost painfully as he pushed his head down his cock, rolling his hips into his mouth and rocking simultaneously back on his fingers. 

Jiyong sucked and sucked, pushed his fingers deeper and pressed against his prostate with every thrust of his fingers — his eyes were glued to Seunghyun again; looking up at him, almost as if worshipping him. He rubbed that one spot inside him over and over again and Seunghyun threw his head back in ecstasy, moaning out his lovers name again and again. He let go of his cock with his mouth and instead pumped him frantically.

Seunghyun’s hands suddenly darted forward, grabbing the headboard tightly as he rolled his hips so fast Jiyong only had to hold up his hands — two fingers for him to fuck himself on them and one hand curled into a tight fist and then, finally, Seunghyun came in thick robes on Jiyong’s face and his his tongue that was lapping around his twitching cock. 

Seunghyun was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. He slowly let go of the headboard and with much difficulty he managed to get off Jiyong’s face to lie down next to him. Jiyong smirked at that — he had made him like that. All weak in the knees and useless with his wobbly baby giraffe legs. 

Seunghyun was still panting as he pulled Jiyong into a wet, uncoordinated kiss. Jiyong wanted to pull away at first, there was still all that cum on his face and on his mouth, but Seunghyun didn’t seem to care. Instead he pulled Jiyong closer, kissed him deeper and let one of his legs slip between his own, grabbed his neglected cock in one hand and pumped him steadily. 

It made Jiyong’s toes curl with pleasure — he had been so preoccupied with eating out Seunghyun and fucking him with his tongue that he completely forgot about his own raging hard on for the moment, but now it was all he could think about. The pressure between his legs, how it was borderlining to being painful and how he just wanted to cum.

But then Seunghyun flipped him over on his hands and knees, head towards the other side of the bad, making him look straight ahead and into the mirror that covered Seunghyun’s wardrobe. He could see Seunghyun dropping down on his own knees, grabbing his cheeks and returning the favour of eating him out. He gasped out loud, followed by a ‘fuck’, before his arms gave out and he landed face first in the mattress, while pushing his pelvis back and his ass into Seunghyun’s face. His fingers clawed at the bedsheets as he uselessly moaned Seunghyun’s name into them over and over again. While it was obvious that Seunghyun hadn’t done this before — he was  _ enthusiastic _ , and that alone unleashed a fire inside Jiyong. 

He carefully lifted his head again, looking into the mirror before him and watching how Seunghyun’s beautiful face disappeared between his cheeks. It didn’t take long until Seunghyun pushed a finger inside of him, soon adding a second one and Jiyong grinned when he realized Seunghyun had pulled out lube and condoms. 

“You seem prepared?” he had wanted to sound cheeky, but his voice came out as a breathy moan, that broke towards the end, because Seunghyun finally found his prostate. The other man didn’t say anything, but Jiyong could feel his heavy gaze on him, could feel him smirk down at him as he continued to rub over his prostate again and again. 

“Basterd— “

His voice broke again — his legs started to shake and he could feel the precum leaking from his cock down onto the mattress. Jiyong heard the condom wrapper getting ripped open and then there was a hand in his hair, tugging his head and body back until he was back to chest with Seunghyun. He was hovering above him, his cock hard again and probing at his entrance. 

“You love me.” — there was a smirk in Seunghyun's voice and Jiyong hated himself for how much he loved it, how hot it made him feel and how much he loved the tight grip the other man had on his hair, forcing his head up and exposing his neck. Seunghyun licked at it, sucking another bruise into his heated skin and then pushed inside. 

Jiyong moaned, whimpered as Seunghyun bottomed out and grinded his ass back. “I do, I really love you, Seunghyun.” He looked up into the mirror as he said those words, only to be met with a dazzling smile from the other man. “I love you, too.”

— and then he finally started to move. 

It was different from all the other times Jiyong had been in this position — for one, it was  _ Seunghyun _ . He so much as moved his hips a little bit, and Jiyong was already in heaven, enjoying the heavy weight on his back — how his chest felt hot and sweaty on his back, how he could feel Seunghyun spreading his cheeks to grind in just that much more. 

For another — Jiyong was still staring at their reflections; he could feel Seunghyun’s hot breath at his throat and ear, shuddered at every word Seunghyun whispered into his ear, and melted when Seunghyun finally returned his gaze. His eyes were hooded and his pupils blown wide — making them seem almost black and Jiyong just couldn’t look away and neither could Seunghyun. 

Their rhythm build. 

Seunghyun’s hands started to wander. 

The slow grind turned into his hips rolling fluidly, pushing into him again and again — he could feel every thrust in his whole body. The way his skin flushed red, how goosebumps broke out, how a shiver ran down his back, accompanied by a jolt of pleasure whenever Seunghyun would hit all the right places inside of him. He could feel the way Seunghyun was picking up speed, how his thrusts became stronger and with every roll and thrust of his hips it pushed Jiyong further up the mattress. 

Seunghyun’s hands held him steadily at his hips, but even that didn’t stop him from collapsing face first into bed again — his cock was bouncing against his stomach, slapping against it and leaving a wet trail of precum on his skin with every thrust and Jiyong could feel his orgasm building already.

He nearly sobbed when Seunghyun reached for his hair again; this time tugging him upwards with such a force that he fell back towards Seunghyun's chest. They were now upright on their knees — the older man stopped his movements for a moment, only to tilt Jiyong’s head to the side and kiss him. Jiyong’s weak arms finally came back to life again and he tried as best as he could to reach behind him, to bury them in Seunghyun’s hair. Their tongues sliping against one another, sucking and biting on lips, breathing each other’s air until they seperated, their foreheads touching again. Jiyong let his hands slip back to Seunghyun's neck and he intertwined his fingers there, holding onto him that way as the other man left more kisses down the side of his face, his cheeks, his jaw and down his neck.

Seunghyun moved them until Jiyong’s knees were nudged forward a little bit, giving Seunghyun enough room to wrap his arms around his waist again, caressing his skin and gripping him tightly at his waist as he started to fuck up into him. 

Jiyong threw his head back, back on Seunghyun’s shoulder — he tried to meet Seunghyun’s thrusts but it was kinda useless. His legs felt like rubber, he couldn’t hold himself up anymore and clinged onto Seunghyun at his neck. Every muscle was drawing together, tighter and tighter — and then Seunghyun’s hand finally slipped down to his dick, wrapping longer fingers around his aching cock and tugging once, twice and Jiyong came with a silent scream on his lips, his whole body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed through his body. 

He could hear the loud groan from Seunghyun as he milked him dry and fucked him through his orgasm, only to join him seconds later. Jiyong’s nails dug deep into his neck, leaving marks for sure and then they both collapsed onto the bed sideways.

Seunghyun slipped out of him, but his arms circled tightly around him from behind as he pressed their bodies together from toes to head. 

Every nerve ending was buzzing, his head dizzy and a well-spent smile plastered on his face as he turned around in Seunghyun’s embrace, kissing him because there was so much love inside of him right at that moment, the butterflies going crazy and brain high on endorphins and all those other chemicals that made him deliriously happy right now. Seunghyun tangled their legs together, halfway laying on top of Jiyong as he kissed him back.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


When Jiyong woke up the next morning, Seunghyun was still clinging to him and fast asleep, snoring slightly into his stomach and Jiyong just didn’t had the heart to wake the other man. He looked so peaceful, so well-rested and Jiyong felt a wave of nostalgia and happiness hit him. There hadn’t been many opportunities for them to wake up next to each other in the morning like this back then — but now they had all the time in the world. Just the two of them and no one else. No parents that could tell them what to do — no country against them and their love. 

It felt surreal; he was holding Seunghyun in his arms, but still. How many years had he hoped and prayed for this to happen? For them to meet again and have a life together? Too many times to count, and now it was finally happening. 

Jiyong felt the other man stir, finally waking up from his slumber. His muscles shifted and he groaned deeply as he stretched his tired limbs, a small groan escaping his lips, before he relaxed his muscles again and slumbed back into the pillows.

“Good morning, baby.” 

Seunghyun smiled at the old nickname and finally opened his eyes.

“Good morning, love.”

  
  
  


It was similar to their first time in bed together — because they just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Reaching out again and again, exploring their bodies, mapping out each millimeter of skin, sucking and biting new bruises into their skin, until their bodies were drawn tight in pleasure and they fell back into the covers. 

When they finally did emerge from the bedroom it was way past noon already — Jiyong wearing one of Seunghyun’s pyjama pants, while Seunghyun wore the long shirt of the same set. Jiyong had to smile at that; his boyfriend had no qualms about not putting on pants but not wearing a shirt? Scandalous. He knew where those insecurities were coming from though, so he didn’t even think about making fun of the other man. Instead, he smiled sweetly at him when Seunghyun made him coffee and pulled them into the living room, sitting down on the couch. 

“Do you even want to watch TV today?”

“To be honest I am already scared to even look at my phone, Chaerin will definitely rip me a new one.” Jiyong chuckled at the thought. 

“You think it was too much? Just disappearing like that after making out backstage?”

Jiyong shook his head, still smiling and kissing Seunghyun’s forehead. “Don’t worry. I don’t regret it and that is all that matters, besides; Imagine the headlines: ‘ _ Conservative painter Choi Seunghyun, seduced and corrupted by Kwon Jiyong _ ’.”

Seunghyun had to chuckle at that. “I think that will be the title of my autobiography.” 

“Hey!” — Jiyong pinched his sides, only causing Seunghyun to laugh even more, nearly spilling half of his coffee and his couch. 

But Jiyong didn’t stop, making his boyfriend squirm was way too much fun and he loved seeing him laugh — so freely and open, it had been too long. 

“You are just the worst, you know?”

“Oh, really?” Seunghyun carefully placed his mug on the coffee table “Says the one who still has my cum in his hair.” — as if to proof his point Seunghyun reached up to one of Jiyong’s tousled hair strands. 

“— and whose fault is that?”

Seunghyun didn’t answered, just giggled like a naughty, misbehaving school-boy. 

“Oh, what did I sign myself up to.”   
  


“— to me, and don’t think you will get rid of me anytime soon, just so you know.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Seunghyun pinched his cheek.

“Well then, Choi, better get on your knees.”

Seunghyun erupted with laughter. “What, one night together and you already want me to propose to you?”

“Well— “, he playfully nudged Seunghyun with one of his knees, “I was more thinking about another morning blowjob, but then again you  _ did _ draw me with a ring on my finger, so— “

Seunghyun was still smiling at him, as he really got on his knees and Jiyong snorted.

“So, do I get another blowjob?”

“Not quite—“ and then Seunghyun put one of the fluffy blankets on top of Jiyong’s head, making him squeal as he tickled him back. His hands were everywhere for a moment, making Jiyong breathless with giggles and then he finally had a moment to breath again. 

It took him a bit to catch his breath again, even more so to pull the massive blanket from his head — who even made blankets as huge as that? — until he was finally free from that enormous fluff monster; just in time to see Seunghyun kneel back down in front of him with a smile on his lips. 

He returned the smile, butterflies coming back to life in the pit of his stomach as he pulled Seunghyun between his legs, combing his fingers through his hair and— 

Jiyong carefully pulled back his left hand and looked at his ring finger. 

There was a ring. 

He looked at Seunghyun with big eyes, not really able to comprehend what was happening, but then Seunghyun smiled at him, his cheeks red and nervous hands massaging his thighs and Jiyong started to cry. He lunged forward, kissing the other man, pouring his whole heart into the kiss as he continued to silently cry happy tears. Seunghyun was grinning so hard Jiyong could feel it as he kissed him. 

They kissed and kissed some more until their lips were numb and swollen and tingly. 

  
  


They still had a lot to talk about, to work through — Jiyong knew it; they both did. But for the moment, they simply enjoyed each other, setting the first stone for their future, making the decision to build one together once more, because now they could actually live that fantasy. They were no longer kids who had to hide under blankets to hold hands, or play hide and seek in an empty warehouse, they didn’t had to hide under a bridge anymore to kiss. 

After fifteen years, their time had finally come.

And Jiyong was welcoming it with open arms. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll have legit no idea how much I wanted to add "-and with open legs." to the last line  
but that would have ruined the dramatic effect a little bit XD
> 
> Alright, first of all - sorry for the delay! College started, my anxietx knocked me out most  
of the time and I was a nervous mess for two weeks. Now I got sick and am tied to the bed  
so I finally had the time to finish this. 
> 
> I purposely left the end a little bit open — because I might (/ M I G H T/) someday write a  
sequel to this. Plus these days I really like to leave a few things open for you guys to figure  
out and such!
> 
> Hope you guys liked this final chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> In case you wanna check out some gtop fanarts, videos, etc — or if you simply wanna talk, here are my other accounts! 
> 
> YouTube: motteme  
Twitter: mottemotteme & motteme_art  
Tumblr: mottemotteme & motteme-art  
Instagram: mottemotteme & motteme_art


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